Summer of Emerald silk and Black lace
by Bitter Red Irony
Summary: [COMPLETE] A summer between two enemys, the thrill of Hermione's final summer, the lessons that Draco teachers her and the world he shows her. M for content.
1. Prologue

**Summer of emerald silk and black lace**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry potter, for I am not JK Rowling, as much as I would like to be I am not. I own none of the characters, and the only thing I do own is the order that the words are placed in and the story line

**Prologue**

She ran the beautiful silk across her fingers; it was like water running over her hands. Softness that only the finest of silk could posses.

She sat alone at the window of her Victorian house in central London, she watched as cars passed and late night walkers wandered the streets, how peaceful it was at this time of night, how peaceful it was when the children and the parents were asleep in bed, when the vindictive old fools lay alone in their neat comfortable beds away from the excitement and thrill that fills the streets for those young enough to care.

It was midnight, the witching hour; she smiled softly as she remembered how that term had meant so much to her for a summer.

The soft silk shone in the light of a passing cars head lights, emerald, the brightest emerald she had ever seen. She closed her eyes and let the soft silk slip out of her hands and onto her lap as her aged eyes closed for what could be their last time, as she remembered back to the summer before her seventh year, remembered back to the summer that had changed her life for ever.

The gentle ticking of the grandfather clock in the hallway was the only sound that could be heard in the deathly quiet house.

'The children are nestled all snug in their beds, unaware of the thrill and excitement that others seek, late at night in the witching hour, unaware of the thrill of passion and lust that creeps within un knowing hearts.' The gentle voice filled her head and she remembered the warmth of his arms around her as they stood silently watching over the muggle world.

Hermione's worn old hands rested gently on the emerald silk that sat in her lap, seemingly innocent, except for the memories that came with it, that stirred within the aged woman's mind, the memories of heated summer nights laying on a bed with her enemy, the only clothes they wore were emerald silk and black lace.

**A/N** _If you have read the previous version of this story you could tell that I have completely re written it, I wasn't happy with the last one so I wrote it again._

_Please review it, which would make me VERY happy._


	2. Promises

**Summer of emerald silk and black lace**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry potter, for I am not JK Rowling, as much as I would like to be I am not. I own none of the characters, and the only thing I do own is the order that the words are placed in and the story line

**Chapter 1**

Promises

_A promise, a simple promise started everything, it always does. A promise at birth given by a mother without even knowing. A promise that when you die they will always remember you._

_A promise, as simple as that, in some ways it seems too simple, too fragile_

_And that's what started this story, like all others, the promise that that summer would be the greatest, after all it was the last before my last year of Hogwarts, it was the last summer I would have as a teenager, and I wanted to feel like one. I wanted to feel alive, to do stupid adolescent things without the weight of the world on my shoulders. _

_I just wanted to be a normal teenager, spend time with my friends, go to movies, and have fun. So I promised myself that no matter what, I wouldn't spend this summer locked away in my room reading up for the next year._

_In some aspects I wish I had never made that promise, but then I remember. I remember that without that promise I would still be Hermione Granger. And that was it, nothing more nothing less, a face in the crowd, a face to a name. I would still see myself as nothing. _

For all the years previous Hermione Granger had lied to herself and others, she lied and said no matter what she loved her life, she loved not having to worry about boys and make up, she said she loved being engrossed in books. But from as far back as she could remember, books hadn't been a hobby or a passion, it had been a sanctuary, books can't ridicule you about your appearance or taunt you about you bad hair or teeth.

Books had been a place that would take her to another world, books helped her become smart and kept her safe from the horror that dwelled within the world. But soon the books stopped being a sanctuary and they were nearly a prison, a jail that had no exit or bars, simply a prison that had no means of escape.

All she would do was read and read because she didn't know any other way, she didn't know how to act around other people, she didn't know how to be social, it was all a thing she had read about once in a book, and she didn't know how to do it.

So when she became friends with Harry and Ron it had been great, she had finally become friends with some one that wasn't a made up character in a fictional story, she was finally free from the prison. The only problem was, that their fights would always throw her deeper into her hell, she would recede back further into the protective shell she built around her self.

She couldn't let herself date because she made herself believe that they either only wanted to borrow her notes from class, or they wanted to prove to themselves and others that they could break thought the Gryffindor princess and see another side of her, that's all they ever wanted, to be thought of as powerful to be thought of as the person who 'conquered the Gryffindor golden girl' that was it.

The beginning of summer started like all others. The train ride back to London was like all the ones before it, filled with promises from friends that they would write and call, and meet up. All of which would be forgotten in the thrill of the summer chase.

Chaos rains in summer, it rules over everything, the masses of pubescent teens driven by their hormones flood the street and drive all others deeper into their houses to escape the dangerous youth.

Summer brought about a new excitement, they were free from the troubles of school and the future, for those two months it was freedom that was on their minds, the air wasn't just thick with heat for the freed school students, it was thick with possibilities, thick with lust and passion of one night stands or summer flings. A giddy feeling of excitement would fill their stomachs and it would control them.

Hermione granger knew this, although she had never experienced it herself she heard the tales, she heard the rumours about who went with who and did what, she heard it all, she'd read about it for merlins sake! But never had she felt it, never had she experienced what they spoke of. And she wanted to; she wanted to feel the freedom, to feel the thrill.

But who would ever be enticed by the Gryffindor book worm? Who could ever forget that was what she was, even for one night.

She watched silently as Harry and Ron made plans for the summer, they would meet up and spend two weeks of the summer at the beach in a beach house Harry found that his parents had owned. Their voices portrayed all that Hermione had heard about, the excitement, the possibility.

It wasn't until half way thought their planning did Harry look up and smile at Hermione, his smile soon turned into a grin and he leaned closer to Ron to whisper something in his ear, Ron too grinned before falling onto his knees before Hermione snapping her out of her trance of looking lovingly at her two best friends.

"Hermione, your the best person in the world, you know that right?" Ron said feverishly causing Hermione to raise an eyebrow.

"What do you want Ron?" Ron glanced quickly at Harry before looking back at her

"You're responsible and dependable and adults trust you right?" Hermione glanced quickly at Harry who nodded vigorously.

"Ah... yeah I guess-" Ron jumped up and sat down on the carriage seat next to her.

"Could you do Harry and me the biggest favour in the entire world?" Hermione soon caught on and stared at Ron as thought he had grown two more heads.

"I'm not going to be your mother for the summer, or at least pretend to be to please yours! I can't believe you would consider asking me just so you and Harry can have a good time! There is a reason why your mother would say no Ronald Weasley-" Ron cut in quickly

"Because she doesn't trust me, but she trusts you! And you can have a great time with us! It would be a great summer, you having fun at the beach, Harry and me having fun at the beach with- OUCH!" Harry had slapped him across the head before he could finish his sentence.

"Herm, please, all we want is to be able to have a good summer, away from Privet Drive and The Burrow, just so we can be normal for a summer and forget about Voldemort and Death Eaters, and we can be normal teenagers and do normal things, at the beach, come on Hermione, it would be the three of us, nothing dangerous, Mrs Weasley trusts you and wouldn't make it difficult, come on Herm, its not like the idea of a summer at the beach isn't exiting" Harry's small speech ended and the compartment was silent, Hermione in contemplation and Ron in awe.

"That was bloody brilliant Harry" Harry grinned and looked back at Hermione.

"Well Herm, are you going to have a good summer with us?" Hermione chewed on her thumb nail quietly, aware of the pleading stares from Ron and the calculating looks from Harry; she finally faced them and spoke.

"I'd have to ask my parents, Mrs Weasley might know I'm a responsible adult but mum and dad still see me as their little girl" her announcement was greeted with a loud high five between Harry and Ron and shouts of happiness, Hermione herself smiled, but inside she couldn't help but wish silently that her parents would say no, and she would have to stay home, its not like she didn't trust Harry and Ron because she did, she just didn't want to be left alone in a beach house while they went of gallivanting with some strange girls.

The crimson express pulled up to the station and the crowd of awaiting parents began to wave excitedly, waiting for their child to arrive in their arms.

Hermione spotted her mum and dad as she carried her large suitcase off the train and onto the platform, her mother waved happily while her dad moved forward to grab her heavy suitcase, she smiled in gratitude when the heavy weight was lifted from her arms.

"Hermione! oh darling I've missed you so much..." her mother talked excitedly as they made their way towards the magical exit that would lead them back into the muggle world, Hermione smiled to herself as she was swept up into the wave of happiness that being home always brought, the prospect of it being any different couldn't even cross her mind. it was like a promise in itself, it was always going to be like this, no matter what, it was the same every year, the hugging and the kissing, and the exited chatter, and glowing faces of her happy parents, it was all so welcome, all so comforting. There was threat of a war that would rip apart both the magical and muggle world, but for this day, for the remaining hours of the arrival home, all that was forgotten, all threat of war stopped, it was the most comforting thing in the world. Hermione found herself wishing even harder that they wouldn't allow her to go away for the summer just so she could soak it up more, but then their was the nagging guilt that followed, of course she wanted to go, she would be on holiday with her two best friends, how could she not want that? Even with that said, she still knew she would be left alone while they went of on one night stands and summer parties, it was unwritten destiny.

As she neared the barrier she felt a piercing gaze penetrate her happiness, slowly she turned around from her parents to meet the steely gaze of Draco Malfoy, his face was blank of any emotion, but his eyes showed something that Hermione couldn't decrypt, his gaze seemed to pierce right thought her, and Hermione felt as thought she was standing in the middle of the platform with nothing on, she quickly broke the silent battle and turned back to her parents who where looking at her strangely, she smiled brightly trying to ignore the penetrating gaze that hadn't left her.

"Who is that boy?" her mother asked briskly gesturing towards Draco who was now accompanied by his mother and father who were talking quietly to Crabbe and Goyal's parents.

"He's no one, just Malfoy" she watched as her mothers eyes lit up with sudden understanding of who the boy was, five years of hearing her daughter complain about him wasn't forgotten that simply.

An hour later the Grangers were found seated around the small dining table that sat in the middle of their kitchen, Hermione had just finished telling them about her exiting year and was getting ready to help her mother make dinner.

"Umm, mum, dad, I was wondering if I could ask you something" her voice shook ever so slightly as she spoke, it was time, she thought to herself as she listened to her fathers nearly scripted response of 'you just did' Hermione laughed lightly and rolled her eyes at her father. "Dad!" she paused to soak up the good natured parents before they morphed into the strict and protective ones that would arrive with her question "Harry and Ron are staying at a beach house for some of the summer, and they wanted to know if I could go with them" she blurted out quickly waiting for their defiant 'no' but it didn't come, instead she watched as her fathers immediate action was to say no, but he was silenced before he could say anything by her mothers steady gaze, this was followed by her father frowning and staring at the table top as thought it had offended him, her mother sat down and folded the tea towel on her lap before smiling at her daughter.

"Honey, your father and I have been talking and we have decided that you are a responsible young adult who knows right from wrong, your sixteen now, nearly seventeen and your heading into your last year of school, so I -we think it would be a good thing for you if you did go, instead of just sitting at home, just so you have burnt off all these adolescent urges so you are free to concentrate on your studies next year." Hermione froze and looked at her mother, she had agreed? How had this happened? When did they agree on this? Her mother looked at her expectantly, and she felt obliged to play the part of the thankful daughter. She plastered a large smile on her face and tried to hide the nervousness and worry that was building up in her stomach.

"Thanks mum, thanks dad" she said hugging each, when she pulled away from her father her mother took on a serious expression and motioned for her father to leave, he did this nearly immediately leaving Hermione alone with her nervous looking mother. The sex talk Hermione realised too late, there was no escape. Hermione slowly sank into her seat to avoid the embarrassment and tuned her mothers embarrassing speech out of her head.

That night Hermione sat alone on her bed as she looked at the clothes she was transferring from her school luggage into a large sports bag, she couldn't resist packing another bag full of her needed books, her reasoning was, _if they will be off gallivanting with others then I may as well be able to entertain myself_. Before she lay down onto her bed and stared up at the ceiling, she had received an owl from Harry and Ron, twenty minutes after she sent one to them telling them that her parents had agreed, saying that so had Mr and Mrs Weasley. As she stared up in to the darkness that covered the ceiling she thought bitterly to herself.

How did this happen?

Even in her own mind she seemed weak, she had said she wanted to live a little, to be like normal teenagers but now that the chance presented itself she found that the sanctuary of her books seemed more welcoming then usual.

**A/N** There is the first chapter of the very new vamped story, I hope you liked it, I will be updating as soon as I can, now that you have read it, please review it.

Thanks to my reviewers… **NYCBallerina5678** / **usagigreenleaf657** / **mystic** / **eskimopie** / **babygirl1832z** / **Draco-and-Jack-Lover** / **LadyMalfoy730** / **merry4ever21** / **jasimae** / **skye133** / **Supreme Neo slytherin Countess** / **popcornx5** / **chantelle** / **Goddess of Gorgeousness** / **Luv2sk8e**


	3. Without knowing

**Summer of emerald silk and black lace**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry potter, for I am not JK Rowling, as much as I would like to be I am not. I own none of the characters, and the only thing I do own is the order that the words are placed in and the story line

**Chapter 2**

_Without knowing_

_At the start of the summer I didn't really know what I should've expected, but what ever I thought that beach would be like, I was far from correct. Maybe I had a stereotyped view of what it should have been like, maybe I had watched too many American summer movies, or maybe I was right, maybe if it was any other beach I would have got what I expected. The beach we were staying at was neat, clean and during the day it seemed innocent._

_But then during the night it changed, night changes everything; it changed the beach from the innocent, beautiful clean place to one full of lust and passion and the seductive splendour of danger._

_Maybe if I hadn't gone nothing would have changed, maybe if I hadn't gone I wouldn't have known how danger can be seductive, I wouldn't have seen how lust and passion are so much better then love, love is just a made up word, a word I had believed in a lot while I was younger, it was written about so much in the books I cherished I just couldn't think that maybe it wasn't real, that maybe lust and hate are the only true things we ever feel._

_What ever it was that made that beach change, I think it got me too, because when I looked into the mirror on the first day back of school, I didn't see the same girl that had stared back at me for all those years, it didn't matter if no one else saw the change, I did._

The white wash walls of the small beach house gleamed in the summer sun. It was like something from a fairy tale, Gleaming spotless white walls and powder blue doors and window. It was quaint, it was cute.

Hermione smiled as she looked up at the white walls of the house, she watched as Harry and Ron made their way inside to claim their rooms and get rid of the weight of their suitcases, Hermione followed slowly, listening half heartedly as Mrs Weasley fussed about the rules, she nodded and smiled, reassuring her that she would look after the boys, Molly smiled in gratitude to her before leaving, with a small pop.

The sound of the two boys arguing over the largest room could be heard from the kitchen, and Hermione sighed and listened to the two boys bicker, she should do the right thing and sort out the mess, but she was on holiday she reasoned, why should she have to fix every little problem, when they had promised her a holiday.

She smiled at herself as she pulled out the first book she lay her hands on from her bag and sat quietly on the living room couch, soon drowning out the noise of the bickering boys.

Slowly the sun began to set, and slowly the families when home and left the beach deserted except for the few who dwindled longer, watching the sun set with the ones they loved. Hermione sighed softly as she watched one loving couple embrace as they watched the setting sun, it was like a scene out of one of those corny romace movies, or a cover from a romance novel that middled aged women kept hidden under their beds. But Hermione smiled and continued to watch them from the window of the beach house. Harry and Ron had left about ten minutes ago to find something to eat, they offered for Hermione to come with them, but she declined, saying she had to get settled in; they both nodded smoothly and went to find food.

Hermione was no fool, she knew they didn't just go out to find food, they went out to find out if there were any parties near by that we 'no invitation' they would drag her along if they found one, for the first couple of times they will drag her along even though she persisted and said she didn't want to, but then it would stop, they would leave without seeing if she wanted to come, because they assumed she didn't want to, assumed she always had a crap time at the parties.

The sound of laughter coming closer drew Hermione out of her contemplation, she watched the door when Harry and Ron came bursting in, they grinned at her before sitting on the couch on either side of her, laying the assortment of food out in front of them, Hermione watched as the food was lay out on the small table. She watched as they ate in a hurry laughing and talking about everything, Quidditch was a hot topic apparently.

"What's the hurry? You're going to choke if you keep that pace up" Hermione said laughing as she watched Ron stuff his face with a variety of foods.

"Party, soon, must eat" those were the only words Hermione could decipher from the mixed jabbering that emitted themselves from her best friend's mouth.

"Huh, well have fun with that" she said as she took a bite out of her pizza. Even if she was born a muggle and up until she was eleven she had lived like a muggle, she still preferred wizard food to cheap crappy muggle cuisine such as pizza and tacos.

"What? Herm your coming with us aren't you?" Hermione looked at Harry faking confusion, she acted like she didn't know this was going to happen, she acted like she didn't know that it was almost played out.

"No, I never like parties" it was true, she didn't like parties, she always felt out of place and ended up being the extra weight that sinks the ship. Harry on the other hand smiled and patted her shoulder.

"You just haven't had enough experience, come one Hermione, come and have some fun" it wasn't really an offer, it was an order, 'come' he had told her to go, even though it really wasn't meant like that, Hermione still felt like it had been a direct order, she reluctantly agreed and took a last bite of pizza before washing up for the party.

Harry smiled as she left the room, now he had no reason to feel guilty about going, and deep inside he thought he has doing a good thing for her, getting her out of the house, making her make new friends, he whole heartedly thought he was helping. He just didn't realise that Hermione didn't want to go and dance and looks stupid in front of a group of strangers.

The throbbing music could be heard from a block away. The vivid corse lights from the large expensive house opposite the beach made everything else seem dull and dark, by eight thirty the party was already underway and it seemed that it had spread to the beach as well; it was dotted with bomb fires and dancing drunk teens. Hermione sighed as she approached the house reluctantly with Harry and Ron on either side of her, they seemed at ease and as though they weren't nervous at all, Hermione thought absently about where they learnt to be so calm and causal, maybe there was something she didn't know about her two best friends.

They didn't bother knock as they got to the front door, Ron opened it with one graceful movement and took long strides into the house, Harry followed after, not bothering to look back at Hermione.

Hermione chewed her lip nervously, she could just turn around now and no one would ever notice.

'_What about living like a normal teenager? What about doing stupid adolescent things?_' a quiet voice in the back of her head asked. Hermione rubbed the bridge of her nose quickly before breathing in deeply and walking into the house in what she hoped looked like a calm and causal way.

The moment she entered the house, she was pushed into a heated mass of bodies; it was like a wave of bodies had enveloped her. She shuddered slightly as she felt the sweaty people pressing up closely to her.

"Excuse me, sorry, um... Excuse me" Hermione muttered as she walked though the sweaty vulgar crowd.

She slowly made her way towards the food table and she sighed when she saw Harry and Ron talking causally to a small group of people near by, a girl was touching Harry's arm affectionately, Harry just gave her a winning smile before going back to the conversation at hand. Hermione watched fascinated as he and Ron managed to talk about muggle things so easily. Hermione wondered hazily how they heard each other through the loud throbbing music, the loud beat penetrated her head and it was like some one was beating her repeatedly over the head with a cooking pan. She rubbed her forehead quickly before reaching for a chip from the bowl near her, she nibbled on the chip for a minute watching as the bodies in the near by room rocked together in an unearthly motion, it was like watching embodied headache.

She slowly reached for another chip and tried to look causal as she bobbed up and down to the throbbing beat.

After a while she sighed and thought about leaving but soon scrapped that thought, _what would Harry and Ron say if she just disappeared?_ So instead she watched the throbbing masses mould together in a magical sort of way, it was really fascinating in a disgusting messy sweaty sort of way.

"I never thought it would see you at a social occasion that wasn't compulsory" a voice said sweetly in her ear. She gasped and turned around not really wanting to see if her suspicions were correct. There standing before the sweating and ungraceful masses was Draco Malfoy, he looked completely out of place in the muggle house surrounded by people who were sweaty and were ruled by their hormones every day of their lives. He looked like a poster boy in a dirty underground sewer. But yet Hermione couldn't help but notice that no matter what he still looked like he was at home, he still looked like he was completely comfortable, and in a way he made it look like without him, this party would be the biggest failure in the world.

"What are you doing here Malfoy, I thought you hated muggles" she whispered the word 'muggle' even thought deep down she know no one would be able to hear her clearly in this throbbing atmosphere. Draco shrugged reaching for a can of beer that was sitting on the table.

"I do, but that doesn't mean I'm not allowed to enjoy myself" he took a long swig of the beer and Hermione watched fascinated that that simple movement caused many girls near by to weaken at the knees.

"So you came all this way to come to a muggle party" Draco laughed finishing the can before throwing it to the bin near by.

"Merlin no, I was in the neighbour hood, heard about the party and decided I would make it worth their while and come and have a look" Hermione eloquently rolled her eyes and kept looking at Malfoy. "Imagine my surprise when I saw the queen mudblood hanging around the masses, I must say it was a shock" Hermione glared as Draco smirked widely. Hermione quickly scanned the room to see if Harry and Ron had seen Draco at the party. Apparently not, they had disappeared some where with some one. She frowned and looked back at Draco who was smirking widely at her frustration. "Now, now Granger, you don't seriously expect Potty and Weasel to come to your recuse all the time do you? After all they are little boys who cant handle their hormones" Hermione breathed in ready to make a witty comment back about her not needing to be rescued, but in taking that breath her mind was filled with the smell of alcohol and expensive cologne mixed with the salty smell of the people around them, she swallowed hard as the huge rush of smells wafted over her, it was strangely intoxicating. Draco watched as she closed her eyes and breathed in deeply, taking in the smells of everything around her mixing in a stimulating way. It had happened to him as well the first time he had entered a dirty muggle bar, he had been fourteen and had stumbled into the musky bar, he had been over whelmed by all the new smells. Draco smirked and leaned closer so Hermione could hear him clearly.

"What are you doing here Granger, you know you'll never belong with these fools" Hermione's eyes snapped open and her chocolate brown eyes met rain storm grey.

"What every one else is doing here Malfoy, having fun" Draco rolled his eyes this time and slowly took her hands leading her towards the sweaty crowd.

"Fun? Do you seriously think standing near the food table the whole night eating mass amounts of chips and trying to conceal it is fun? Well then you do win the award for being the next up and coming McGonagall" Hermione glared at Draco's smirking face. Draco was soon entering the crowd of dancers, he seemed sort of out of place amongst them, he still seemed so clean and neat even though the mixed heat from the summer night and the constant movement could make anything sweat.

"Go to hell Malfoy, what are you doing here so far from your manor?" she snarkily asked glaring at the perfect creature in front of her, but all she could see was a arrogant superficial bastard who was too far from home. Draco on the other hand smirked wider not caring that Hermione was so angry at him.

"live a little granger, its not like you haven't ever wanted to go out partying and do stupid things, no ones that perfect." Hermione still hadn't walked away, and she wondered briefly why, Draco wasn't holding her hands tight enough for her not to get them away, and for some reason she felt inclined to follow as he made his way though the crowd, it was sort of fascinating to watch as the music matched his slow walk backwards, and suddenly the beat wasn't nearly as deafening, and all the smells around her were so thrilling. The bodies pressed closer onto her and their sweaty skin seemed to slide right off her like they were in water.

"So you chose a muggle party, miles out of London?" Draco laughed and shook his head.

"No, I'm staying in the next town, its known for its night life, and sometimes you want to get away from the drug induced excitement and the blue lights that make everything look so fun-" he paused for a moment thinking over his comment. "No you don't actually, but its good to go back and party with the not so experienced, just so you appreciate it even more." they had reached the front door which was left open, Hermione suddenly felt like she wanted to go back to the close sweating group, it had been exhilarating some how.

Draco slowly walked out of the house and down the path towards a shiny black car that hadn't been there when she had arrived; he turned when he got to the car and turned around to look at Hermione.

"Recon you want a ride?" he said cockily as he opened the back door and slowly got in, before he closed the door he leaned out and said causally as though he did this all the time with his enemies, "I can show you what real fun is, it will make that party in there seem like a three year olds pixie party" he smirked cockily and leaned back into the car.

Without knowing why Hermione walked swiftly down the front path and headed towards the car.

Without knowing why Hermione got into the nice black car and didn't look back.

**A/N** Well there it is, hope you like it and I will update soon. The story is only now beginning so basically you can consider the last chapter a filler, and the prologue will be explained during the corse of the story.

Please review it, its good for the ego.

Cheers

And thanks to my reviewers…

NYCBallerina5678 / Goddess of Gorgeousness / babygirl1832z / LadyMalfoy730 / Jameth / chantelle / JoyCrux / jasimae / RavenDeath7 / Supreme Neo slytherin Countess


	4. Hidden

**Summer of emerald silk and black lace**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry potter, for I am not JK Rowling, as much as I would like to be I am not. I own none of the characters, and the only thing I do own is the order that the words are placed in and the story line

**Chapter 3**

_Hidden_

_I used to think that if I did something stupid or uncalculated then the world would fall apart. I didn't think doing dangerous things and doing stupid uncalculated risks could be in any way entertaining, I guess I could say I was single minded, I didn't believe that there could be more to every day things then what was on the surface. That's what you get when you live a life of being told things straight, nothing was hinted at, nothing had blurred lines that made it hard to distinguish between the truth and fiction._

_I expected things to be straight across the table so to speak, and the fact that someone would shelter the full blow of the piece of information was ludicrous to me. I just couldn't understand that not everything is how it seems, and that in truth appearances can be deceiving, and that if you dig deeper you just might find something that would arouse your senses, and tantalise you mind._

_One thing I know for a fact, one thing I know is absolutely certain, because I have looked at it inside out and upside down, is that draco knew another world, and he showed me, he showed me that nothing is ever as it seems and there is more then two sides of a story, he showed me a world full of mystery and secret, a world trimmed with adventure and a world where you can do what ever you want to do because no one will notice, because their all doing it as well._

_To tell you the truth it scared me, the prospect of a world I've never known scared me, because it made me think that maybe there's more I haven't learnt. It scared me so much that up until that summer I had been hidden from that world. Or maybe I wasn't hidden, maybe I had been hiding, maybe deep down inside me I had always known that world existed, maybe I hid it from myself because it would prove everything I have ever believed was wrong. Maybe I wasn't hidden, maybe I was just hiding._

The club that they entered was both hot and cold, the room was lit up with bright blue lights that seemed to fade into nothingness as they reached the ground, other lights flashed and moved over the dancers making them seem like stilled snapshots. Hermione looked around the large room and watched the large crowd on the level below the balcony that she and Draco stood on, moved to a heavy throbbing beat. She listened intently to the noise around her as Draco watched her.

The beat wasn't just heavy and throbbing, it was sharp and seemed to have and edge that sliced into your mind leaving it both full and empty of conscious thought, it seemed to seep into your body forcing you to move to it, like it wanted to show you another world.

They made their way to the level below; Hermione licked her lips without knowing as she walked slowly down the stairs.

The room seemed to have a taste and smell about it, it didn't just smell like sweat and alcohol like the beach house had, it smelled like passion and promise, although that sounded strange it seemed to fit, when Hermione took a deep breath in she smelt the thrill she had read about in books, it was like a promise hidden deep within the atmosphere. Her mouth seemed to be filled with so many different tastes, she could taste the lust and the thrill, but there was something else as well, something heavy and bitter that hung on the tip of her tongue, tantalizing her, trying to make her discover what it is that she tasted.

Draco moved with ease thought the heavy mass of bodies, occasionally he would nod to someone or they to him, it was like he was a regular visitor here, that surprised Hermione. If draco Malfoy looked good at a cheap beach party, then he looked at home in the rich atmosphere of the exclusive club, his blond hair and stylish black and dark coloured clothes made him look like a well known model or celebrity, even though he was only seventeen.

Hermione watched amazed as a tall buff man approached them and talked causally to Draco, Draco didn't smile, he just ran his fingers though his hair calmly and replied elegantly to the tall man, they exchanged handshakes and manly nods, before the tall man turned and disappeared into the crowd.

Then they kept walking though the mass of people, Draco turned around to look at Hermione and smirk at her.

"Told you I like to see how the lower class party once in a while." Hermione rolled her eyes and continued to follow him. Eventually they made their way to the centre of the dancers, Draco smirked and pulled Hermione in front of him, Hermione stood self consciously in the middle of the throng of people. "Come on granger, what are you scared of?" Draco asked as he pulled her towards him, her back came into contact with his chest and his arms causally rested on her shoulders, Hermione shivered at the touch but still stood stock still.

"I'm not scared of anything, I just don't dance" she stated briskly not moving from her position. Draco raised a brow behind her and glanced quickly around the room. He wasn't quite sure why he had decided to take Hermione with him; he just decided to do it, a spur of the moment thing.

"Why don't you dance, what's there to lose?" Hermione rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest like she always did when she felt uncomfortable.

"My dignity for one" she stated seriously causing Draco to let out a short laugh.

"No ones going to care, to them you are just another face in the crowd" Draco traced her arms lightly with feather light touchers before he reacher her wrist's and uncrossed her arms, her placed them to her sides and bent his head down so he was near her ear. "None of these people care if you can dance or not, half of them can't themselves," Hermione closed her eyes to the lights and bobbing people and let Draco's soft voice fill her mind. "nothing here matters, an hour before dawn these people will go back to their houses, crawl into bed and forget that tonight ever happened, their here for release, not to ridicule others, all they want is to get up tomorrow, wipe the hangover from their eyes, dress in their boring suits and head off to work. The wont remember any particular person, hell even if you danced with them the whole night they wouldn't remember your face, all they will remember is a blurry figure that will hang in their memory for a tops of an hour before their swept up in their daily boredom, they might come back tomorrow, or they might come back a week from now, it doesn't matter, because the moment they step thought that door they are some one else, there's no names here, there's no past and no future, all there is, is here and now" as draco talked he began to move his body slowly to the beat of the music, as his voice washed over her, Hermione joined him until all there was, was silence between the two and perfect entwined movements.

Onlookers might have seen a perfectly choreographed couple dancing in the crowd with everyone else, but in truth all they were doing was moving to the music, sure it wasn't moving to the beat that filled the room, they were moving to the music that was played underneath, barely recognisable as music, just a gently whisper that was hidden deep within the loud throbbing beat that filled their eardrums.

Soon the night began to end, the crowd began to thin and the remaining occupants of the club began to gather their things, some heading over to mates houses, some heading out to wander the streets before it was time for them to return to their normal lives, but most just headed straight home, tired from their night of dancing and alcohol.

Draco pulled away from Hermione and smirked as she looked around quickly seeming to just realise where she was. "Come on; guess I better take you back to the other side of town." Draco said smirking as he began to walk towards the exit.

When they got there two large men were standing talking together.

"Young draco, I didn't know you where here" one of them said as he turned from the other man, he was dressed in a elegant black suit and had a rich cockney accent, he was smirking at Draco, but draco didn't seem too bothered, he just smirked right back with his famous Malfoy smirk and replied wittingly.

"Well then, I do believe your losing your touch, once upon a time you knew everything that went on at your clubs." The elegantly dressed one smiled as though Draco had said something amusing and the other smirked and shook his head slowly at the young boy's attitude seemingly impressed.

"Too true young draco, I shall make a point of keeping a closer watch on my clubs and its…" he trailed off and looked at Hermione over Draco's shoulder. "Occupants" he finished, before moving aside and letting the two exit. "Its good to see you again Draco, come by and say 'ello" Draco turned around before he entered the car that was waiting for him, he raised a brow and smirked before nodding once to the men at the door and vanished from sight as the car door closed.

Draco and Hermione got out of the car a block away from the beach house Hermione and the boys were staying at. The two walked in silence along the beach.

There were no lights on as they got a little closer to the beach house; Hermione clenched her jaw absently before looking at her watch.

"One thirty, oh Merlin it's so late" she said and sped up her walk, hearing Draco's laugh behind her she paused and turned around to face him.

"I guess its true then, what they say about time flying when you're having fun" he said and continued to walk slowly up to her. Hermione rolled her eyes and watched Draco approach.

"Why-" she paused and swallowed. "Why did you take me with you?" she asked and watched him for any signs, any at all. Draco shrugged absently kicked a bit of sand.

"Don't know, guess I decided it was boring as hell there and you looked like you agreed. Thought I'd show you that not all parties suck" Hermione nodded and turned to walk away again, Draco had stopped walking a meter back and watched her slowly retreating back. "I can show you, I can show you a world you've never seen before" Hermione stilled and slowly turned to face him. Draco continued not really looking at her. "I can show you a world that's not just shades of grey, what I showed you tonight is just a taste of what I could show you." Hermione watched him, thinking about his comment.

"My world's not just shades of grey" Draco laughed and took a step forward.

"If I show you my world, you will see it, your world is just shades of stone washed grey, mine has splashes of colour and zigzag lines here and there, I can show you a world that is far from the one you know" Hermione closed her eyes thinking about what fun it would be. But then she thought of Harry and Ron and who this boy in front of her was.

"I don't need to see another world Malfoy, I'm fine with this one" she stated and turned to leave again.

"Don't you hate it? Don't you hate the fact that you'll go home, feeling guilty that you come home so late, but then you'll lie awake until four in the morning, until you hear potty and weasel come home. Potters so stoned he trips over the couch, or the table, or something, weasel laughs so hard in his drunken state that he falls over, neither think of being quiet for you, their too fucked on life the think in that state, don't you hate the fact that as I say it you know its true, don't you hate that they go off and fuck some two-bit ditz from the beach and forget about you? Its summer granger! For once in your life don't be you, do something different, take the offered hand and see what this world has to offer." Hermione listened and closed her eyes turning away from the boy in front of her. She reached the porch steps and slowly walked up them. "I can show you granger, if your interested, I'm at the blue moon till dusk every night, if you want to see more of what you saw tonight, go there, and see my offer" with that he turned away and left Hermione standing on the porch contemplating his offer.

And later that night she lay awake, at four in the morning she heard the drunken banter of her two best friends and Draco's offer came to mind, it rolled thought her mind for a good half hour before she heard one of her friends throwing up in the bathroom next door and got up to help them, leaving the thoughts of the offer on the bed, to be thought of again in a moment of silence

**A/N** there it is, chapter number 3, hope you enjoyed, I'm not completely sure about it, its just getting the real story going, the chapters are going to get better and better as the story progresses trust me.

Thanks to my reviewers…

Jasimae / Supreme Neo slytherin Countess / Luv2sk8e / dramaqueen72 / JoyCrux / LeslieGlady / chantelle / J'aimeDanser / RavenDeath7 / kat6528 /

usagigreenleaf657- sorry I didn't know you reviewed before, but I think I was just a little swept up in my music to know what on earth I was doing, thanks for you review(s)

as most of my reviewers for this story have read 'salt in your wounds' you will notice that's its a lot different, but I think that's because I feel like trying something new. Hope you like them both.


	5. Trust

**Summer of emerald silk and black lace**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry potter, for I am not JK Rowling, as much as I would like to be I am not. I own none of the characters, and the only thing I do own is the order that the words are placed in and the story line.

**Chapter 3**

_Trust_

_I used to believe that to have any type of relationship with someone, you had to trust them. Trust was what made the world work; it was the glue that stuck friends together. It hadn't even crossed my mind that any relationship could exist without complete trust in the person at the beginning and all the way though till the end.  
At the start of the summer I didn't exactly trust draco, I didn't even like him, but he had promised me a world I hadn't seen before, and the information-consuming part of my mind had taken over, I had been intrigued; and I hadn't given myself much of a chance to think about the consequences like I usually would, instead I had fallen without protection into a promise that was made and I found that the only thing I could do was trust him. Even if that thought had made me squirm and shiver in distaste I ended up doing it, and near the end of the summer I had learnt to trust him even though it made no sense and he had given me absolutely no reason to. But he taught me something I couldn't have learnt any where else, he taught me that not everything has to make sense, not everything has to be planned and scheduled; he taught me that sometimes you just have to throw your arms up and trust the person who offers you a hand, and sometimes, even if their a complete stranger._

The blue moon diner was on the outskirts of a small city, it was a quaint diner that seemed permanently stuck in another time, in another world, although it was impossible to tell what one. If a passer by glanced at the shop they would see nothing but a diner, like in all those road movies, filled with truckers. Although the blue moon diner was a step up from that, it still had hints of its history lodged inside it. But once you entered it, you were consumed by a warm comforting feeling from the pit of your stomach. And no matter who you are; you felt like you were home.

The diner gave off a harsh yellow glow that seeped into the darkening sky, the name was written in blue neon lights above the door and it seemed to flicker as you looked at it. The moment the door was opened tacky music seeped into your mind and the tantalising smell of food that wafted though the open door was nearly enough to make you melt at the knees.

Hermione watched the crowd inside the diner, and spotted Draco near the back bent over papers, she watched as he glanced up from his work at the red haired waitress that had bounced over to him, he smiled and laughed with her as she talked to him for a while before walking off to go and serve another table. Draco said something to her from his table and she nodded smiling before jotting something on a note pad and disappearing behind the counter.

Draco smiled in the direction the waitress had gone, she was a live wire and extremely flamboyant and it was nearly impossible not to be happy when she was near by. Draco glanced down at his papers again and continued to work though the many forms he had to fill out for his father.

The sound of the bell above the entrance rung, followed by approaching footsteps barely registered in his mind as his signed yet another form, he paused what he was doing when the person stopped in front of his table, at first he assumed it was the waitress with his coffee, but when the person didn't place anything in front of him he glanced up to see who the visitor was.

Hermione granger stood uncomfortably near Draco's table, his blond hair flicked out of his face as he glanced up. A small smirk crossed his features and he quirked an eyebrow in amusement.

"Well fancy seeing you here, what brings you to this part of town?" he said with a hint of amusement in his voice. Hermione crossed her arms over her chest and looked any where but at Draco.

"I was considering taking you up on that offer." She said as coolly as she could, Draco's smirk grew wider at her statement.

"Well you wouldn't be here if you hadn't already considered it, and why do I have the feeling you wouldn't have bothered to come all this way to tell me you're not interested?" Hermione shifted her weight onto her other foot and glanced venomously at Draco before looking out the window.

"Your right. I should go" she stated and started heading towards the door.

"Wait, Granger, get back here." he said calmly not even getting up from his seat, his amusement lingered in his voice, Hermione paused momentarily and glanced back at the booth Draco was sitting at. He sat calmly and watched her, knowing she couldn't resist.

"Fine, but this better be worth it." She muttered before turning and joining him at the booth. Draco smirked wider at her as she sat on the edge of her seat. To prolong her un-comfort he signed another paper and re read the last five lines, he heard Hermione sigh with frustration and smirked at his paper.

"Here you go sunshine." The bright waitress said as she placed a black coffee in front of his papers. "And hello, who's this little beauty?" Hermione stared at the colourful waitress for a moment aware of Draco's sniggering, before she snapped out of her trance and offered her hand to the waitress.

"I'm Hermione, I'm a… ah…" she cuts off as she glances at Draco; he's smirking widely watching her squirm uncomfortably. The waitress looked at Draco pointedly causing him to stop laughing.

"She's an acquaintance from school Deb." There was a sound like a snap, soon followed by cursing from Draco. "Bloody hell Deb! The hell you do that for?" the waitress, Deb, clucked her tongue and smirks at the boy now rubbing the back of his head, cursing at the fact that he hadn't seen the slap coming.

"You don't talk about ladies like that, and if you do you deserve more then just a smack on the head" she smiled warmly at Hermione before bouncing off.

A moment of silence followed before Draco finally broke the silence,

"So you decided to take me up on the offer" Hermione watched as he smiled, for the first time Hermione could really tell that the boy in front of her was really a human being, just like everybody else, he wasn't high and mighty, although he seemed it be with his aristocratic good looks and attitude. She smiled and looked down at the old warn table. Her discovery of his mortality seemed to fire up an innate sense of confidence

"I wouldn't be here if I hadn't." she replied cockily, her brief moment of glory was soon taken from her as draco let out a small laugh as though a small child had told him that they were better then him at Quidditch.

"Now now, don't get snarky." Hermione clenched her jaw, and made to stand up,

"That's it; I'm going I don't know why I came here in the first place" her outburst was stopped by a small bark of laughter from draco, he had had his play and now it was time to get down to business.

"Wait, granger, come back." Hermione sighed and closed her eyes, not believing that she was doing this, and blamed her family for her hereditary sense of trust, or maybe it was just foolishness. She sighed and sat back down, slouching in the chair as though exhausted.

"Before I promise anything I have to lay down the rules" Hermione perked up at that and let herself straighten up and regain her composure.

"Rules are good." She stated earning a small smile from Draco. But that was soon replaced by his cool persona again as the seriousness of his next statement hit him.

"Rule number one, the most important one of all. Nothing changes, when this summer is over nothing has changed, we will still hate each other, we will still be the same people we were when we got off the express at the start of summer, are we clear?" Hermione contemplated this for a moment, as though checking for any faults or loopholes. But then frowned and looked up into Draco's stormy eyes.

"As if anything could happen to change how we see each other." Draco smirked at her expression, he knew what he was going to show her, and he knew that no body could ever be the same as they were before they experienced the highs of the world he knew

"Everything changes, whether we want them to or not." Hermione caught sight of his trademark smirk and replied without thinking.

"Trust me, my hate for you will never change."

"Maybe not, but _you_ will change, whether you notice or not, the important thing is that nothing between us changes, come dawn September first, we will be who we were. We forget this summer ever happened." Hermione thought for a moment staring into storm grey eyes looking for any clue to what was going to happen.

"Deal" she stated, and they briefly shook hands. "What are the other rules?" Hermione asked after a second of silence. Her question aroused a mischievous smirk from Draco who took as sip of his coffee and replied.

"You will learn them when the time comes."

Half an hour later, the two students were found within a crowd, standing on a busy city street,

"It's late, what are all these people doing out here?" Draco snorted and pushed his way though the crowd, a hustler waved and smiled in a seemingly flirtatious way, Draco ignored her and continued to lead the way though the crown towards the road that they had to cross.

"Merlin Granger! You are so naïve. When it starts getting dark, is when the real parties begin." Hermione swallowed her nervousness, and followed Draco silently, whether she admitted it or not, Hermione was both nervous as all hell, and excited at the possibility of what she was going to learn.

"Where are we going?" Hermione asked before she could stop herself as the two entered an emptier street, off the main road they had previously walked. Draco didn't falter in his stride, but turned around with an elegant twist so he was walking backwards grinning at Hermione.

"One of the many parties this small city is famous for." Hermione gulped and looked down at her clothes, she wasn't dressed for parties, she looked ragged and dirty, defiantly not fit to 'party' in. "but first, we're making a pit stop to get you some more…" draco paused his train of thought and glanced at Hermione's clothes. "Clean clothes." He turned again and let Hermione catch up to him. Hermione gulped, she didn't like the idea of wearing somebody else's clothes. Next to her, Draco smirked, liking the idea of having some one to show his world too. He couldn't show any of his Slytherin friends, they couldn't possibly comprehend the thrill that came with all the things he loved, the dancing, the throbbing beat, the drinks that burned the back of your throat as you downed them in one gulp, the way a simple pill could make you forget who you have to be, who you will end up to be and who you want to be, and for that moment, that single moment, you are truly flying, with nothing but throbbing beats and hot sweaty bodies pressed together, all experiencing the same thing as you. Pure unadulterated trust with the complete stranger that is wrapped around your body moving with you to the beat like a second skin.

**A/N** Sorry if this chapter is kinda… well crap, but anyway, it is all coming together and soon my chapters will be filled with the words that will take you to another place. In this chapter, I let hint of how Draco feels about it all-the parties and such-, and why he does what he does for the summer, please continue to read this story and don't let my terrible chapter change your mind and make you throw this story in the trash.

Also it was sort of from a mix view so you got both sides of the story.

**Please note,** _I also didn't create the waitress, she was pre made and pre boxed for my convenience, she is from **"**_**Queer As Folk_"_**_ made by _'Showtime',_ and I don't own her, and there for I take no credit for her character._ I suppose that should be in the disclaimer… oh well.

**R&R… please.**


	6. Questions

**Summer of emerald silk and black lace**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry potter, for I am not JK Rowling, as much as I would like to be I am not. I own none of the characters, and the only thing I do own is the order that the words are placed in and the story line

**Chapter 4**

_Questions _

_What's the worst thing that could happen? A question that was thrown at me, whenever I had doubt of my own abilities or when I became self conscious and deluded by the ideas of something terrible happening. Caution is an important thing in life, but if there is too much, you will end up driving yourself insane, driving your self over the cliff that distinguishes true life, and the illusion that clouds so many minds. So in a way, that question kept me sane, kept me from jumping off that cliff, kept me on track and away from obscure thoughts of failure. _

_The first couple of times Draco asked me that question I didn't understand the full meaning, I didn't understand why on earth he wanted me to voice my fears. But gradually I realised, that the worst thing that could happen is often the least likely, we build our selves up for this large fall, but really, what we're fearing is something that could never harm us in the way we expect._

_It was a lesson I kept with me for the rest of my life, it was a lesson that kept me sane thought the last days of Hogwarts, and the first years of my career as a real witch. Those words, that unspoken challenge that tinged every letter, every syllable, that crept within me and challenged me to push the boundaries and become the best witch that I could, but at the same time; it grounded me, it kept me on track and kept my mind open. It brought me back to the best experiences of my life, the throbbing music and the enlightening taste of sex that hung in the air no matter where we went. Those words reminded me of the times I spent with Draco, and I could almost hear him whisper them above the thump of the base of a song that I can't remember, or whisper them into the lightening summer skies, and how the words seemed to be consumed by the heat in the air. What's the worst thing that could happen? And really, what's the likely hood of it happening? The hidden question amongst the challenge, within a simple sentence. _

An hour ago Hermione had stood in front of the large full length mirror in Draco Malfoy's bedroom situated on the top floor of a large pent house apartment. She stood staring at her self, but not really seeing it, not really seeing anything.

'_How did I get here?_' she had asked herself, '_Why am I here?_' the questions kept coming, and in truth she didn't know the answers, and most likely never would. She had continued to stare at her surroundings thought the mirror as thought she was looking at another world. And it was, it was another world, she didn't belong here, she didn't understand these ways of living; but yet for some reason when she surveyed the room though the mirror, she hadn't looked out of place, she hadn't looked like some one pretending to be someone their not, she looked like she was home, she looked like she fit in, with the large four poster bed, with the sheer green hangings, and the pure silk bed covers, she looked at home in the deep blue walls-nearly black- and ancient beautiful furniture. She looked like she had been there her entire life.

The silk of the bedcovers glowed with hidden embroidery, it shone in the dim light of the nearly set sun that streamed in though the large windows, and Hermione had felt alive, she felt like she was dancing in a room full of adventure, for some reason she felt like she could do anything, like she could scream and shout and laugh like never before. But instead she looked at the world though the mirror, she watched how the smooth silk of the dress Draco had given her to wear wove around her hands, moving like liquid in a way only the most expensive silks could.

The dress shone and glittered with each movement Hermione made, Hermione smiled despite the thoughts that were running thought her mind. She had told Harry and Ron that she wanted to check out the local library and would probably be their till late; they both laughed and rolled their eyes saying that they would see her when she woke up the next day or when they got home. Hermione had smiled and laughed along with them and told them to be careful. But as Hermione stood in front of the large mirror she couldn't help but wonder what they would have said and done if they knew where she was really going. She could almost see Ron turning red with rage and shouting incoherent insults and accusations, while Harry would just be quiet, and she would be able to see the pain in his eyes, the thought of her two friends so angry at her made her shiver and turn away from the mirror and slipped the smooth silk over her body and shivering as the cold silk caressed her body like water. She slowly turned away and headed towards the door and to draco who was waiting for her so they could leave.

The heavy whoosh of heat that mingled with the muggy summer humidity brought Hermione out of her trance, as the door to the club opened allowing them entrance; the beefy bouncer eyed her quickly and smirked at Draco, seemingly knowingly.

The two walked down a small corridor that ended with a doorway covered with chains hanging from the top of the frame. Draco's smirk grew wider as he moved thought them, the noise of the chains clinking together was drowned out by the loud music being played by the DJ on a stage near the back of the large room. The people nearest to the door paused momentarily as Draco entered, a couple nodding in greetings while others just glanced away having found out who had entered. The room was nearly pitch black, but with every beat of the song blaring though the speakers, lights flickered and flashed on and off, the beat was erratic so it left the crowd in suspense for the next flash of beautiful colour.

Draco headed though the crowd like he owned the place, his arrogance seemed almost kingly, Hermione followed behind him eyes wide with wonder at the masses of people, the sometimes extravagant clothing and the flashing lights, she felt like a small child in a lolly shop.

To Hermione, it was something new and exiting at every turn of the head. Never in her life had she felt like she could act like a fool and get away with it, draco leaned down to her height to reach her ear as she watched a small mousey looking man be fondled by two model-like women on either side,

"You can do just about anything in here, and no one will remember, and if they do, no ones going to care." Draco stated before leading her into the abyss of bodies, Hermione felt herself once again be overcome by the music and the dance.

Two years ago Draco had been the one who could lose himself in the music, two years ago he was being shown the world for what it was, and now it was time to pay his dept and return the favour.

Something's never change about these places, the sweat and sex heavy in the air, the loud beat that fills the room, and then your head, the sweaty bodies pressed against you on all sides, its always the same, and it always will be, I doesn't matter if it's a new song or an old song; nothing will ever change and that's a good thing, that's the best part of it. Its comfort in consistency; its everything Draco ever wanted -ever needed-. He had two years of dancing endlessly into hot summer nights, two years of drowning himself in the dance, and drowning himself in the liquor both muggle and wizard alike, they all have the same effect in the end –complete annihilation of any conscious thought- in the clubs and bars that draco made his home, he was just another man, there are no muggles and wizards, there is only men and women, draco isn't the heir to one of the oldest wizarding families left in the world, draco isn't the son of one of the cruellest death eaters to bow down in front of the dark lord, there is no future of killing and devastation for him. There is only here and now, and that is all Draco needed.

Although as draco looked down at the girl dancing in his arms he smiled at the irony of what he was doing, teaching someone what he was once taught, teaching someone something that they will forget by the time their thirty. Teaching someone what he will have to leave behind forever once school began. He wouldn't return next summer, or the summer after that, this was his final encore.

A single thought ran though his mind as he pondered what he was doing. _'Will anyone ever remember me? Will anyone ever remember the stranger that would be here every night of the summer for three years and then just vanished? Will anyone remember the man who would leave with a string of women each night and then, one day show up with one? Or would he be just another one of those faceless people hidden deep in the back of a drunks mind? Will be the next faceless shadow in the corner of the bartender's eye?_' Draco shook his head as if to clear his mind of those thoughts, _'who cares anyway, I come here for me, not for them._' And then he let himself be enveloped by the music, let himself forget the world he will have to leave, and forget the world he will soon call home, as he danced with a girl dressed in the finest silk on the dance floor of a club filled with sweaty people and the smell of sex in the summer air that crept in though the vents.

The throbbing music and light simmering on the glitter that fell from the ceiling, were comforting in a way Hermione had never know, it was like a security blanket wrapped tight around her, it was so easy so calm so pure.

There was no magic in the room, but somehow it seemed like there was more power in there then the whole of Hogwarts, it was just so right. Everything seemed to glimmer and shine in the flashing lights that roamed the crowd, the glitter stayed in their hair, and cascaded down there bodies till it found a place to rest. Hermione briefly wondered if she would ever be able to get all the glitter out of her hair, but then all conscious thought escaped her as she leaned back into Draco's embrace and moved again to the music.

Draco danced effortlessly to the music, moving in a way that showed others he wasn't just some fool-hearty kid, that he knew what he was doing, and that he had done it several times before.

The night moved on, unknown to Hermione draco took two small white pills, that were flushed down into his system be the steady stream of beers from the bar, that never seemed to be paid for, all feelings were maximised, all caresses and touches were like electricity, nothing was like it seemed, the lights played stories in his mind and he moved with ease that he would never posses in the comfort of day, Hermione was unaware of any of this, was unaware of the reason to Draco's comfort and ease, they danced on, both drowning themselves in the music, and forgetting that the real world will once again come forward, when they each returned to their houses.

Two hours before dawn, the two sat on the white sand of the beach, watching the waves envelope the sand, they didn't talk, they didn't really know what to say, hours had passed in each others company, and really no unnecessary words had been uttered, their bodies talked, their hands communicated, their mouths didn't need to speak, the music did it for them.

The silence around them was heavy, the night air lay thick around them and they seemed to be enveloped in it, Hermione wore the silk dress still, and the sand was warm on her legs, she ran her hands absently over the silk, just happy that she was wearing something so expensive.

Their silence wasn't awkward, but each expected the other to be so.

"Thank you," Hermione uttered into the night air. Draco turned towards her, with a calm, nonchalant look on his face.

"For what?" his voice was thick and laced with the drugs he had taken, but only noticeable to his ears, he closed his eyes briefly and wondered why he did that to himself, but a moment of remembering how they made him feel, how they enveloped him and let himself create an artificial world that was so _right_, reminded him of why he did it.

"For showing me that world, for showing me… everything." Hermione didn't want to look at him, so she continued to stare out at the ocean. Draco smirked at her comment and joined her in staring out at the ocean.

"I've barely showed you a thing yet, this is just the gateway to my world. If you let me, I will continue to show you it, this is your final chance to say no." Hermione paused, thinking over his words, she had doubt flicker in her mind '_what more could there be for him to show me?_' and then she remembered what it was like to dance in the masses, and she ran her hands once again over the smooth silk of her dress, she had never felt silk so soft, she had never worn anything that could possibly be this expensive before. "come on, what's the worst thing that could happen?" Draco's voice rang in her ears, and she wanted to say all the things that could go wrong, wanted to tell him that he could possibly have more to show her, but then that question rang in her ears, she had always stayed well away from the line of the unknown; why should she this time?

"Show me." She said barely louder then a whisper, but it seemed to hang in the air, as though written in the suns rays. Draco nodded and stood up, helping Hermione stand and then walking her the rest of the way to the beach house in silence.

Hermione stood under the shower head and watched as the glitter mixed with the water ran down her body and swirled at her feet before going down the drain, she smiled as she watched the glitter leave her body, and a small coil of excitement made its way into her stomach as she thought of what draco could possibly show her. She turned off the shower and stood in front of the small mirror, her skin was flushed from the hot water of the shower, and her hair was dripping wet, but still there was a small glow that seemed to make her shine.

What's the worst thing that could happen? A small smile flickered onto her face as Draco's voice rang in her ears, along with the distant memory of loud music that penetrated her skull.

She heard the front door open and the hysterical laughter coming from her two friends, she sighed in relief that she made it home early then them, but a small question rang in her mind as she thought of her two friends who were now passed out on the couch in the living room. _'Could they possibly have had as much fun as I did?'_

**A/N **

I AM SO SORRY! PLEASE, PLEASE CAN YOU FORGIVE ME? I am so sorry it took me so long to update, everything has been crazy, I've had writers block, I swear I've re written this chapter fifty times, as well as all my homework, and everything else that has happened in my life, I'm so sorry, and I promise I will try and update really soon.

Thankyou to all my reviewers, for this story and all my others, and again, I am so sorry!

For any one that is interested, I am most likely going to write a final final chapter for my debut story "salt in your wounds", so check back on it soon-ish and there might be the next and final chapter.

**Alovngfan101 **I'm sorry I took so long, I feel like a real bitch, sorry.


	7. What we are

**Summer of emerald silk and black lace**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry potter, for I am not JK Rowling, as much as I would like to be I am not. I own none of the characters, and the only thing I do own is the order that the words are placed in and the story line

**Chapter 6**

_What we are_

_Something I'll never allow myself to forget, is that looks can be the most deceiving thing in the world, you could fool your own mother if you acted correctly, if you tried to act and dress like you did before the world changed. _

_Appearances change, they twist and morph into something else, but no matter what, people will judge you on what you wear, how you stand, what colour you wear the most, and what way you present yourself. I used to believe that you could tell a lot about a person by the way they dress, but I was wrong because you can't judge some one by what they wear, the thought now seems absurd. How they dress is nothing to do with how they are on the inside. You can deceive the world if you try hard enough, put on a tough-guy persona, and play the part to an extend and people will avoid you, or purposefully pick a fight with you, or you could dress like a model and smile and shake hands, dress in exquisite clothes of the finest silks, and people wouldn't think twice about your place in the world. _

_But no matter who you are, no matter how hard you work on your deceiving appearance, you can never fool yourself, you can try all you want but deep inside your mind, you know your not this person you make out to be, your not what your appearance shows, you are always going to be who you are, that might not be who you want to be, or who you feel you need to be, but you will always be it. The world might see you by how you dress, but you will always see you for who you are. And no amount of fancy clothes or make up can change that, all that does is change the shell that you hide within. Draco told me that if you hide who you are from the people around you, if you hide your true feelings and beliefs, and put on an act of what you know they want to see, then you could rule the world._

A shrill ringing filled the silent house; the rings were soon followed by grunts of protest from the two boys still asleep on the couch in the small living rooms. Hermione walked briskly into the room and rolled her eyes at the two withering bodies lying on the couch trying in vain to get rid of the shrill noise.

"Hello?" she asked brightly into the receiver.

"This afternoon, four thirty, blue moon café." Hermione nodded and scribbled the instructions on a small note book near the phone; she knew who it was instantly, that soft drawl could only ever be Draco's.

"Okay, see you then." She got no reply and in truth she hadn't been expecting one. She placed the receiver back down and looked again at her two best friends who were untangling themselves now that the noise had stopped.

"Do either of you want a drink? Maybe a painkiller each?" she was answered by a strangled 'yes' from each boy.

Draco stood at the open window in his upstairs study. It was just before noon but he had been up for hours, he only ever got one or two hour's sleep at the most each night so he was used to having everything done before the masses woke up.

He stood stock still by his desk, cigarette hanging from his lips as he took a deep drag.

His conversation with Hermione had been brief and straight to the point, it wasn't a question or a request, it had been an order; she had agreed to experience all that he had to offer so she would see it.

He wondered briefly why he hadn't gone though the pleasantries everybody else went though before getting to the topic at hand. A lazy smile flittered onto his face as he thought this, of course he didn't go though pleasantries; they were unnecessary, and besides he was Draco Malfoy; that would never change. Draco Malfoy was sharp, straight to the point and annoyingly honest at times, why would he bother with pleasantries when seven words would get the message across just as quickly?

Slowly he let his eyes close as he took another drag of his cigarette letting the ashy smoke slither down his throat and into his lungs before seeping into the blood stream, as he envisioned the smoke rushing though his body in his minds eye.

He opened his eyes as he blew the smoke out the open window watching as it disappeared like a wisp of cloud into the blue abyss.

The large clock that hung on the wall announced that it was now noon; the days creep by so slowly in the heat of summer, there was nothing to do, no school, no work, nothing. And even if Draco could think of something to do he probably would lose patience and stop half way though.

The lure of the night was always too over powering, the promise of losing himself in music, lights, crowds and drugs was always to strong to be ignored.

An emotionless smile and a haunted shadow flooded Draco's face. It was too hard to resist the escape; the leave of all intelligent thought, it was what he needed, it was what he craved, it was why he went night and night again why he buried himself in the music and the drugs and the booze; it made it easy to forget that it all had to end, that he would have to go back to Hogwarts and the Malfoy manor and become what he was born to be.

Draco frowned and finished his cigarette stubbing it out on one of the many ash trays that were found around the house. _Why I even thinking about this?_ He ran a hand though his hair and rubbed at his face, as if to clear it of the darkness that seemed to have settled there. He continued to stare out of the open window of his silent study.

Silence, how he hated it, every other sound seemed amplified, the ticking of the clock in the next room, the sound of voices down on the streets below, his own breath took on a louder harsher tone. He let out a low growl of anger as he poured himself a glass of glowing amber liquid 'The best whisky magic could buy' but draco drank it like water, not even pausing his gulps to acknowledge the burn the liquor made as it ran down his throat.

A sigh of relief escaped his mouth as he set the glass down and put the lid back on the bottle, storing it back in his desk.

It wasn't even lunch and he was already seeking comfort in the bottle, he closed his eyes and faced the ceiling, he hated that he was so weak, he hated that slowly; day by day it was becoming harder to not take another sip.

At four in the afternoon a tall man stood near the entrance of the small brightly coloured diner, the man seemed to be shrouded in shadow except a stray stream of light that shone on his locks of platinum blond hair. A burning cigarette hung from his lips as the smoke swirled before him in the shade, hidden from the hot afternoon sun.

Draco took another drag of his fifteenth cigarette today, and before lulling his head back against the wall pulling the cigarette away from him to flick the ashes to the ground, where they would flare up once more before dying completely onto the hot cement.

His eyes closed as he rested his head against the wall, as he brought the cigarette once again without even realising back to his lips to take another burning drag.

And that was how Hermione found him, four minutes later.

"I didn't know you smoked." She stated a little shocked. Draco opened his eyes lazily before dropping the cigarette and making a show of crushing it with his heel, before looking up and smirking, ignoring the fact that he felt a slight crave to have the cigarette back in his hand already.

"I don't." he stated before heading into the diner. "You hungry?" he threw over his shoulder, to Hermione who stood still looking down at the cigarette before looking at Draco's tall frame standing in the doorway of the diner. She ran a hand thought her hair slightly confused at what had just happened but nodded anyway and followed him though the door.

The diner was much the same as it was the only other time Hermione had been there, they sat at the same table, under the same bright lights that seemed to give everything a harsh glow. Hermione looked around at the afternoon crowd, strange women and men dressed in black-despite the heat- people half falling asleep-Hermione suspected still dressed from the night before, everybody seemed different and in there own little worlds. The same waitress was working as well and she waved quickly and shouted a hello. Draco nodded and had sat down in his seat.

"So…" Hermione began looking around the diner, Draco looked at her from side to side and wrote something quickly on his hand, before looking back at her and waited for her to continue. A silence settled over the table, and Hermione looked out the window hoping to be swallowed up by the chair she was sitting on.

"Well dray, is the apocalypse near? Because I am sure this is the same girl who was in here just the other day!" a loud voice sliced though the silence that had settled on the table. Hermione turned back in time to see Draco roll his eyes and look at the woman blankly before rubbing his forehead and fiddling with the knife in his hands.

"Don't be silly Deb." He stated calmly not looking at her. "Coffee. Black." He stated and it was the waitresses turn to roll her eyes.

"Yes your highness." She replied sarcastically before turning to Hermione. "What about you love? What can I get ya?" Hermione thought for a moment before smiling and asking for a chocolate milkshake. "Right away." Deb said before rushing off.

"How do you know her?" Hermione asked conversationally, Draco smirked and looked at her before opening his mouth to reply.

"I found him passed out cold out the front." Debbie stated causally placing their drink down in from of them. Draco snorted and said to Hermione who was looking at him quizzically.

"I wasn't passed out- just a little, out of it." Debbie huffed loudly and faced Draco.

"You bloody well were not! You were passed out cold, and it wasn't till you came out of it where you a little 'out of it'! You were high as a kite for another hour." Draco seemed un affected by her statement and simply rolled his eyes before drinking some of his coffee.

"Now Deb, that is absolutely absurd." He stated sitting down the mug and looking directly at the waitress coldly. Debbie just rolled her eyes and scooted in next to Hermione.

"I tell you love, he was out cold when I first met him; beat and bloody like no one else- must have pissed some one off royally I tell ya, 'bout two years ago now, right dray?" she didn't wait for a reply but continued any way. "So since I didn't know where this kid came from I took him home with me and got him to wake up. And I say, he was high as a kite, was nearly jumping to the ceiling talking about legacies and death eater bastards- what ever they are- and was screaming about something vold- something. When he finally came down, he was just plain angry and fell asleep nearly instantly. Since then I've been his mother every summer, - when he can be bothered to come and see me that is-"she stated looking draco straight in the eyes. Hermione looked at Draco for some sort of explanation but she received none, instead he raised his empty mug and gestured for a refill. Debbie rolled her eyes and snatched the cup from him and she trudged off, leaving Draco and Hermione alone again.

"We have to get you some things to wear, correct me if I'm wrong but you don't own many- exiting clothes do you?" Hermione shrugged shyly and buried her face in her milkshake. Draco acknowledged her answer and continued talking. "We'll go to a friend of mine, he should have something." He continued to mutter a couple of other things but Hermione realised he wasn't really talking to her. When he finished they sat in silence again.

"So what's you point of view on your meeting with her?" Hermione asked after a little while. Draco just smirked and shrugged.

"Guess my first try of muggle substances didn't agree well with me." Hermione stared in shock at him while Debbie placed their food in front of them. She shook her head at the two before going about her work.

They ate there food in near silence except for the occasional comments made or their usual banter. Once they had finished Draco left the money for the bill on the table and a large tip for Debbie.

Once outside Draco lit up a cigarette unconsciously and took a relaxing drag.

"You know, smoking's really bad for you." Hermione said after a moment of trying to stop herself. Draco glanced at her then back at his smoke.

"I don't really care." Hermione nodded pursing her lips trying to stop herself from saying anything more.

"But it can kill you; I mean it's _really_ bad for your lungs." Draco rolled his eyes and rubbed his forehead to clear his head from the headache that was slowly growing.

"Have you ever tried a cigarette?" Hermione looked horror stricken at the very possibility.

"No of course not! It's so unhealthy." Draco shrugged causally and took another drag of the cigarette purposely blowing the smoke into the wind so it blew into Hermione's face.

"So is bottling up all your emotions." He sated as he pulled open the door to a boutique. Hermione huffed angrily and followed him in.

They were immediately assaulted by a flamboyant man, who squealed loudly when he came out of the back room and saw Draco.

"Draco darling, I would have sworn you had forgotten all about me!" he exclaimed loudly in a soft southern drawl as he rushed forward and kissed Draco on the cheek and enveloping him in a friendly hug. Hermione looked a bit shocked at seeing the infamous Draco Malfoy of Slytherin receive a hug from such an obviously gay man. She would have said it was a lie and he would have cursed them into oblivion if she hadn't seen it herself.

"Good to see you to Demetrious. I need Philips expertise. My-" he paused and glanced at Hermione who still stood uncomfortably near the door. "-friend needs some new clothes." Demetrious seemed to have just noticed Hermione was there, because he rounded on her, flashing her a wide smile he looking her over with a look of contemplation on his face.

While she was getting studied by the flamboyant man, another man -less colourful- walked out of the back room, he wore elegant black and grey clothes and he seemed to scream rich and sophisticated- like Draco did.

"Draco, I hear you're finally returning the favour." He said moving forward to share a manly hug with Draco who hugged back this time.

_Finally returning the favour_ the words echoed though Draco's head.

No words seemed necessary for the two well dressed men, they seemed to disappear into isles of the most beautiful silks and satins and materials Hermione has ever seen.

"If you've captured the heart of young mister Malfoy then I _am_ impressed." A soft voice with a southern accent whispered in Hermione's ear. Hermione turned around and looked curiously at the flamboyant man.

"What do you mean by that?" she whispered back and watched as he walked slowly backwards behind a feature wall made of glass bricks. He gestured for her to follow him and she found herself obliging.

"You don't know him very well do you?" he asked in the same whispered voice, he crooked a finger as he walked down a small corridor. "Our dear Mr Malfoy is the most sort-after man in all of England." He giggled softly at Hermione's dubious look and leaned forward "But nobody can reach him." he looked around suspiciously as though expecting to see some one listening. "some people say that he's a god- that's not right though, he's too heartless to be a god- others say he's the only son of the devil;" Hermione raised her eyebrow questionably and Demetrious leaned closer "-he's what makes the summer nights hot, he's the real reason people lie awake at night tossing and turning because of the heat- he makes summers hot, without him they'd be just another season" he looked around conspiratorially before leaning closer. "the summer storms are his build up anger… and if he was to ever cry, the summer skies would snow." Hermione wondered how he came up with this-nobody could seriously think of Draco Malfoy like _this. _Could they? "He doesn't want to love, but that doesn't mean that the people he fucks don't fall madly and deeply in love with _him_- I've heard its like a vampires glamour-once your close to him its nearly impossible to be in control of your own actions-" a clearing of a throat brought them out of their whispered conversation and both turned to see draco standing near them leaning causally against the glass-brick wall. A smirk was present on his face and his eyes glinted with some unknown feeling.

"Now now Demetrious, you don't want to be filling young Hermione's mind with such thoughts- rumours are just that-rumours and it is best if you do not repeat what you and your gossip mongering friends hear and think." He turned around leaving a blushing and ashamed looking Demetrious and a curious looking Hermione. Before Hermione followed him Demetrious leaned forward pulling her arm so she came closer.

"He makes the summers hot."

For the next hour Hermione was being fitted in the finest of clothing. Draco had walked out side for a cigarette and to answer a call a while ago and Hermione was left alone with Philip who worked steadily as though lost in his own little world.

The shadow of Draco could be seen against the window of the shop, he stood leaning against the wall talking on a phone. But even once he had finished he stood still staring out with closed eyes.

"Among the wizards who hide in the clubs that Draco lives in- they say it's more of a veela's charms then a vampires glamour- it's neither though, its just pure lust. They lust after his looks, they lust after the mystery that surrounds him, and they lust after the prospect of who he is- _what_ he is." Hermione's head snapped up at Philips quiet voice.

"What is he?" Hermione asked cautiously, almost afraid of what the answer would be. Philip looked at the shadow of Draco outside the boutique and sighed.

"He's just like everybody else. Just as-" he paused and looked up at Hermione, a frown creased his brow but he paused and his features softened and he smiled. "-just like everybody else." Hermione knew that that wasn't what he had been about to say but couldn't push because Draco had just re-entered the shop.

Hermione saw him blink widely a couple of times before sniffing at nothing as he rubbed the bridge of his nose. Philip gave him a small smile and a roll of his eyes.

**A/N** I'm not sure about this chapter. Well I'll see how you all like it.

Thank you ever one who reviewed. And sorry you all had to wait for this chapter- I was busy with finishing my finished story. Sorry about the crappy punctuation I'm working on it.

**A/N/2** thank you everyone who reviewed for 'Salt in your wounds' I'm glade so many people like the Encore.


	8. Society

**Summer of emerald silk and black lace**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry potter, for I am not JK Rowling, as much as I would like to be I am not. I own none of the characters, and the only thing I do own is the order that the words are placed in and the story line

**Chapter 7**

Society

_What you hate the most is what you will inevitably become. _

_That's one thing I learnt that summer, that's one thing Draco taught me. Your hatred is the most powerful thing you posses, some use it to fuel their work, some hide it away in a bottle deep inside themselves. But no matter what you do with it, no matter how hard you fight against it, it will in the end control you, your hatred moulds you, shapes you, makes you become what you hate the most. And you can't fight that, because it's how it has always been._

_Draco showed me how people use hate and fear to get what they want and that sometimes hate is the only real thing in the world._

_It seems to happen when you least expect it, when you look away for a moment, but when you look back its there, not you, you have been replaced by what you hate, what you have fort so long against. Draco taught me that, a lesson it had taken him a life time to learn, and I will always remember it. _

_Even when it happened to me I tried so hard to deny it. Draco hated his father and what he was going to have to be, but yet he became just like him. I hated what I became, and I still do. I know that even now; years later Draco looks into the mirror at night and wants to cry because he used to know better, he used to be something he wanted to be -Even if it was only in the summers. I know he does because I do it every night. _

_What you hate the most is what you will inevitably become._

Two hours after the witching hour, a couple more hours until the masses awaken. The beginning of the end to the magical feeling that spreads though the bodies of the people leaving from hidden clubs and bars.

The last of the twilight magic dwindles in the air; leaving only a trace and a memory that already seems to become distant in the minds of the people who were awake to see it.

Hermione stood under a lamp post on the edge of a busy main street that seems empty in the early morning darkness. She closes her eyes to the faint tingle of coolness that only seems to exist for the briefest of moments in the hot summer nights.

Draco appeared besides her and watches her for a moment before making his presence known.

"You want to go home now?" he asks taking out another cigarette from his pocket and lighting it up in one swift move, Hermione stared awed by the simple gesture that she had seen so many times in the past week.

"I'm going back home tomorrow, I want to spend one last night here to see the dawn." Draco didn't question her nostalgia about the dawn or the few nights they spend together, either under the mirror lights on the dance floor or sitting on the beach miles up from the beach house where she was staying.

They walked in silence towards Draco's car that stood blocks away from the club; Hermione remembered watching Draco down more then two shots of whisky and stood next to the car nervously.

"Are you… alright to drive?" she asked cautiously, Draco's head came up from staring at the remaining of his cigarette after he crushed it under his heel.

"Of course, I've driven every night this week." Hermione's eyes widened not having noticed him drinking the nights before.

"But you've, had a lot of drinks, are you sure you're…" Draco huffed a laugh and leaned against the hood of the car to look at Hermione.

"I'm a wizard Granger; muggle liquor doesn't effect me like it does all those sodding muggles." Hermione smiled and got into the car, completely satisfied with his response. Draco stood outside the car for a moment longer looking into the night, reassuring his conscience that he hadn't lied, its true-it doesn't affect him like it does the muggles, one or two drinks won't even start a buzz with him, but around the five or six mark he begins to tingle.

He ran his hand though his hair roughly, the sweat caused it to stick up at all angles and giving him a charming ruffled look

The wind was cooler up on the top of the small cliff overlooking the ocean. The mix of the summer heat and the coolness of the ocean breeze caused the cliff to have an almost serene perfection.

The pair stood still on the edge of the road, looking out over the ocean with the lights of the small city glittering behind them.

"It's an Indian Summer." Draco said in a near whisper, as though unable of breaking the magic. Hermione looked up at him, almost shocked. She'd never seen an Indian summer before, and if she had, it never meant anything. This was truly beautiful. And the name seemed to suit the perfection of it.

The words rang though her mind as she pictured skies of velvet and smooth silk.

"It's beautiful." She said in reply returning her gaze at the world around her, watching the sun slowly rise with a spray of magnificent exotic colours. The spray of colours slowly changed, and the two continued to stand in companionable silence.

"How come you're so different now then you are at school?" Hermione finally asked breaking the silence that enveloped them.

"What makes you think I'm so different now?" the stillness of the night was slowly giving way to the harshness of day, and reality. "You only ever see me when I'm in competition for something. What makes you think I'm not like this the rest of the time?" draco already knew the answer, he wasn't the same as he was in school, that person is the one he was supposed to be, this person is the one that escaped and had a few moments of freedom that he cherished.

"The whole school would know if you were like this." Draco snorted a laugh, and smiled.

"That's true. But maybe this is the person I really am, and that person is the one I have to be." Hermione frowned thinking about that.

"That doesn't make sense; everybody is allowed to be who they want to be, no one can force you to do something you don't want to." Draco laughed then remained silent for a moment watching the sky letting his laughter at her innocent views hang in the air for a moment longer.

"That's an idealists dream. Its not reality. We can never be who we want to be because that dream fades, it becomes hazy and hard to remember as you grow up. You can never be the person you want to be because society wouldn't accept it. They wouldn't accept _you_. Come on, I better get you back to your boys." Hermione frowned crossing her arms over herself as though shielder herself from the cold that didn't exist and stayed standing where she was.

"What do you mean draco? What do you mean by society not accepting some one who is who they want to be." Draco turned around from heading to the car and looked at Hermione, feet firmly planted on the ground and face stern as though telling off a child. Harry and Ron had seen this stance many times and knew it was time to back down, but Draco either didn't know or care.

"What I mean Granger, is that society is a cruel and heartless thing, what I mean is that no matter how hard you try if you don't conform to their rules and their boundaries, you will always be considered a freak, a monster, some one that should be dead, because they dare defy the age old foundations of society and there for deserve no respect, deserve no aid they are barely human." If Draco had of shouted, it would have been more comforting, if he had raised his voice and threatened to hit her it would have made her feel safer, but his calm exterior and the way he nearly hissed the words out caused a stir that she had never felt before.

"That doesn't make sense Malfoy, it's not true." Draco laughed into the warming air, but then he stilled completely and a shadow covered his face.

"Believe me on this one granger, you can try however you want to be who you want to be, but time will catch up with you and you will see that it is impossible, we all tern out as what you hate and don't want to be. Me; the heir of the Malfoy lineage. You; the muggle born friend of Harry potter.

It's all prewritten in time. We are destined to be who we have to be. Brief moment in time, lapse's in concentration are the only clues that there is something else that we wanted to be, like now-this summer, this is just to be there; as a reminder that despite all your fighting you did end up as you were supposed to. You did end up as the society approved person and not the person you could have been if life was different." Draco turned back and walked to the car not caring if Hermione followed or not. He sat silently in the driver's seat looking though the front windscreen.

Hermione soon joined him and they sat in silence, Hermione thinking about what Draco had said and what on earth made him believe it. And Draco trying to block out all thoughts and remain focused on the road ahead.

They walked down the beach slowly making their way back to the cabin where Hermione was staying. Draco bent down and lifted a small piece of sea glass from the sand and looked at it closely, it was in the shape of a star it was smooth and the points were curved from the ocean waves. Hermione notice him stop and stood besides him looking out onto the ocean

"Not everybody will judge you if you go a little against the rules to be who you want to be Draco." Hermione hadn't been able to get what Draco said out of her mind since he said it on the cliff miles away. Draco turned to face her and looked into her eyes as though searching for something in her soul.

"Maybe in the muggle world Hermione, but not the wizarding one. The wizarding world is a cruel and harsh place. Wizards judge you and ridicule you to such an extent in our world if you go against the old rules, or try and be something that wasn't planned for you then you will be hated. They embed what you have to be into your mind that you end up hating it, even if you don't recognise that hate its still there" Draco played with the small piece of glass as he turned away from looking at Hermione and instead staring almost longingly at the small outline of the miniature city on the horizon. "Take me for example. If I don't become like my father I will be killed. I can fight it all I want but it won't work. Either I die trying, or one day I wake up and look in the mirror and I won't see me anymore, I will see Lucius. All I will have is a distant memory of all that I'm showing you. The memory of this world is the only thing I will be able to hold on to in the end." Draco wanted to swallow his tongue, why was he saying all this to her? He wanted to scream and shout and make her forget all that he had said but acted cool instead, slipping a mask of indifference over his face to hide the shock of saying that out loud.

"Why does it matter if you muggle or wizard? What makes wizards so much better and so much crueller then muggles. Why does it matter if you be who you want to be if you're a wizard and not if you're a muggle? Come on draco why?" Hermione said loudly angered by Draco's feelings towards muggle. It didn't even really register in her mind all that he had said.

"You want to know what's so different granger! You want to know why we are so different! This world" draco grabbed Hermione's arm to face her towards the small city, as he gestured to the horizon and back "Is nothing, we are the powerful. We are the strong! There are wars being fort in our world that these muggles couldn't comprehend! Your parents; you 'friends' could never understand. You and me are the powerful ones, you and me, are the strong ones. Muggles are weak; they don't know anything of what life was like before. We wizards have been around longer, we have learned more, we have learned to capture energy and wield it in a way that could kill. You want to know why our reactions would be so different to theirs. It's because we understand the true order of things. You and me are stronger then those muggles could ever be. You and me could rule the world if we wanted. But we can't because our wizarding society knows how to keep us under control. They will judge you and hate you if you try and change that." Hermione looked at him and saw the fear in his eyes and wondered what it is that made him so passionately believe that that is the only way things are.

"I'm half wizard, and I-" Draco cut her off before she could finish.

"Believe that you can be who you want to be. After all, the other half must be muggle." He turned and left but as he got to the car he turned back and threw the small piece of glass to Hermione. "It'll turn into a portkey tomorrow night at eleven thirty. I want to show you another side of my world." With that he got back into the car and left with a squeal of tyres. Blinking his eyes trying to clear them of the slight fog that had been present from the last shot of whisky.

**A/N** holy crap I am sorry. Not only did it take so long but it was a bad chapter. I'm really trying but life doesn't seem to want this story written. I'll update as soon as I can.

Thank you to all my beautiful reviewers. I really appreciate your comments.


	9. Wisdom

**Summer of emerald silk and black lace**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry potter, for I am not JK Rowling, as much as I would like to be I am not. I own none of the characters, and the only thing I do own is the order that the words are placed in and the story line

**Chapter 8**

_Wisdom_

_There are always two sides to a story, they might be completely different or they might be just about the same. The most important thing in life is to be able to see both sides and find the real answer encrypted within, I used to see myself as a very open minded person. I guess I believed I kind of had to be, being best friends with Harry Potter. _

_But after that summer, I realised that I had always been very one-sided, I always thought that there was one right answer to everything and that everything else was wrong, there was always one truth to everything and everything else was false. _

_For a while I hated myself for being so closed minded and thinking things were always so black and white, but then Draco and something he said came to mind, it was just one of his light comments that at the time it had just gone right over my head. 'Anybody can make a mistake, and anybody can ask for forgiveness but what's really important is to be able to forgive yourself, either before you do it, or after.' pretty wise words for a drunk teen with his head in a toilet, but that was Draco._

_He always saw every possible side to the story, and used them to his advantage, it was his way. I never learnt how he got that talent, but I learned the hard way that no matter what he knew what the wise thing to do was- although sometimes he didn't do it, and tried to ignore it as best he could. _

_There are always two or more sides to a story; but sometimes, you don't want to know the rest of them._

The hours seemed to pass by slowly that night. She'd gotten home and played reunion with her family. A large family dinner with laughter and happiness. But all the while Hermione was only half involved. She thought of her nights out dancing and partying till all hours of the morning. She didn't understand why but she couldn't stop thinking about it.

Couldn't stop thinking of the overpowering beat and the need to feel hot sweaty bodies all around her as she moved with the crowd.

After one night of solitude away from the true tribal beat she felt a strange relentless need to feel it again. She had gone out with Harry and Ron the night before as a final goodbye to their beautiful holiday.

Harry and Ron had came running back from the beach as Hermione came out of the house carrying a tray of sandwiches for her and the boys to share. It was their last day on their individual holiday away from their families and they decided that they would spend it together and leave early tomorrow morning a slight change of plans but their families didn't mind.

"Hey herms, we just heard about the best party that's on tonight, we thought we should all go and check it out as our last toorar!" Hermione shifted her stance and looked down at the sandwich in her hand. She didn't really want to go, she liked dancing with Draco in the clubs because like he said no one would remember in the morning, they were all their for their own kind of release. Teenage parties in houses and on the beach while their parents are out of town for the weekend were an entirely different thing. The teens were there to socialize and get 'laid' and have a 'good time'. It was a completely different good time to the real parties to the real clubs.

She smiled and nodded and listened to where it was.

It was on the beach a few miles down, on the other side of a small cliff that could just be seen from their beach house; Hermione had been there on occasions when she was out for a walk; and Draco had stopped there once during the week to take a quick swim.

Harry sensed her discomfort at going and said in private that if the party was that bad she could walk home and he would cover for her with Ron. She smiled and thanked him, filing that away to remember later.

The party was underway by the time they got there; Harry laughed when she commented that they always seem to be late then whispered in Hermione's ear that Ron liked to make a fashionable entrance. Hermione giggled and walked with the pair towards the large bomb fire.

The night descended much like the first. The loud music coming from speakers connected to car engines blared out over the usual serene peacefulness of the beach, figures danced in the fire light and in the shadows around the small circle of tree trunks and throw pillows set out for the party goers comfort. A small table of food and drinks had been placed not far from the circle.

Hermione sat alone staring at the bomb fire and remembering how it was so different with Draco. The music in the clubs that he frequented was different, no pop music and crackling speakers there, no, it was deep heavy music that seemed to come from deep inside the earth and moved in the bodies of the dancers like a spirit embodying all of them. The music was almost tribal in the dark room with flashing lazars and mirror lights.

This party almost seemed mundane in comparison.

In the end she ended up taking Harry's offer and wandered home watching the ocean and listening to the music slowly fade away into the distance.

The next morning Hermione was woken up by the cheerful humming of Molly Weasley. Hermione jumped and nearly screamed before she realised who it was that was bustling around her room.

Her second thought was of Harry and Ron. More then once this week she had seen them both passed out on the sofa or the floor, and she had a sudden horrible vision of them both passed out cold from cheep beer and 'socializing' till early morning.

Clearly that was not the case because Molly smiled widely when she noticed Hermione was awake and started chattering on about how they must have had a wonderful time and it looked like they had all been good and had nice clean fun, and that Hermione really was and excellent influence on her two boys and would keep them in line. Hermione blushed from embarrassment and guilt. She'd only spent about three nights in total with the boys and the days were mostly spent lazing around. But she couldn't tell Molly that. It would break her heart to hear her youngest son and the boy she treated like a son spent the nights away drinking and fucking and dancing.

She now sat alone in her room, the house was silent. Her parents had gone to bed an hour ago and Hermione had faked exhaustion and had retreated to her room at the same time.

The smooth piece of ocean glass sat on the bed next to her, weighing that small amount of doona down, she watched it mesmerised as though it would suddenly morph into something else like a dragon or a unicorn.

The clock struck eleven thirty and a small glimmer of sparkle came from the piece of glass, it was faint and was barely noticeable for the moment that it had appeared, like a piece of glitter that caught the light for a split second before disappearing again.

This was it, if she touched that now there was not turning back, it was her last chance to back away, to pull out of this deal.

But even as she thought that, she was already feeling that familiar tug on her navel.

The pent house apartment was dark when she arrived with a small whoosh. The only light was the light coming in from the streetlight far below and the minimal light from the moon that shone in though the tall windows that lined the walls.

Even in the dim light she could make out the disorder of the large open room. Tables were covered with clutter and a couple of chairs were tossed around carelessly. Pictures hung on the walls crookedly and there was empty bottles leading a path upstairs.

The bathroom door was ajar when Hermione approached; she pushed the door open wider and took a small step inside.

The off tune lyrics of a childish nursery rhyme floated to Hermione's ears.

"_Mondays child is fair of face,  
Tuesdays child is full of grace,  
Wednesdays child is full of woe,  
Thursdays child has far to go,  
Fridays child is loving and giving,  
Saturdays child works hard for his living,  
And the child that is born on the Sabbath day  
Is bonny and blithe, and good and gay."_

Hermione took a small step into the room; Draco continued to talk as though the rhyme hadn't yet finished, "where am I? Where do I belong dear daddy?" Draco let out a drunken chuckle, his forehead rested on the tiles under the toilet and his eyes were closed. "Daddies a funny word, better then father, nicer then father too. I wonder why that is." Hermione stepped closer before kneeling down onto the tiles next to Draco. He seemed oblivious to her presence and continued to ramble on.

"Draco? Are you alright?" Draco's head snapped up and he looked at Hermione thought unfocused eyes.

"And lookie! It's every day's child! You're a week child, week. All fucking week." He laughed at his own joke before reaching for a bottle of glowing amber liquid. "Lucky week girl, you don't have a day all to yourself, _'and Malfoy-day's child is just another fucking rung in a long fucking ladder."_ He threw his head back and took a long sip of the liquid, his expression not even changing as he swallowed the fowl smelling substance. Once he was finished with his mouthful he placed the bottle down and continued to talk in a slurred murmur. Hermione took the opportunity and placed the nearly finished bottle on the wash stand next to the toilet. "because that's all I fucking am, just another one of them, its what I have to be, a piece of wood in a long line of pieces of wood…" he continued to talk drunkenly as he tried to stand up, he swayed on his feet and rolled his head on his shoulders like he wasn't completely sure what he was supposed to do with it. "…because I'm just like him, and he is just like his dad and he is just like his dad, and we're all the god dam same, because we cant think like individuals because all we FUCKING KNOW HOW TO DO IS REFORM AND BE LIKE THEM!" a loud smash echoed around the bathroom as Draco lunged forward in a fit of anger throwing everything on the wash stand onto the floor. Draco paused momentarily as though listening to the smash again and again in his head, before he suddenly turned green and covered his mouth.

Hermione stood up and faced him towards the toilet. She had seen that same shade of green on Ron when he had had one too many beers at one of the parties. Draco she suspected had had more then one too many.

Hermione patted Draco back and rubbed soothing circles on his lower back as he emptied his stomach into the toilet. She made quiet calming noises when he had finished and sank to the floor shaking like a little child.

"You know, the wise thing for me to do would be to stop giving a shit, commit to the fact that I will become like him. But I just can't seem to accept that, and I will lye on my death bed and know with so much certainty that I fucked up that death will be a comforting thought." Draco spoke in a voice barely above a whisper but Hermione heard every word as she held him close as he trembled. "Anybody can make a mistake, and anybody can ask for forgiveness but what's really important is to be able to forgive yourself, either before you do it, or after. I just don't want to have to forgive myself for all the fuck-ups that I'm going to make." Draco fell silent and Hermione gingerly lifted him up, and moved him out of the mess of the bathroom and into the cool dark hallway, before finally into his room.

"You end up not recognising yourself. You fight it and you fight it and you fight it, but when it comes down to it, you look into the mirror one day and you don't see _you_ looking back, you see _them_. And it happens in the spilt second that you look away." Hermione tucked him into bed and looked around the semi lit bedroom. Even in here there was so much disorder, clothes were strewn everywhere and the tall mirror that stood in the corner had been thrown across the room, shards of broken mirror littered the floor. "It'll happen to you too, you'll fight to be a strong powerful woman, who isn't held down by the world," Hermione walked over to the pools of broken mirror, she saw her own shattered reflection looking back at her, her face covered mostly in shadow and her eyes seemed darker then they really are. Draco spoke softly as he feel into a drunken slumber that she nearly didn't hear his final comment. "But you'll look in the mirror and all you will see is another middle aged woman who is no more special then anybody else. All you'll have to differentiate who you are is the fact that you are still known as Potters side kick. Because we all end up as whom we hate the most. We have to." Hermione looked up from her distorted reflection and looked at Draco, he slept still in the position that she put him in.

"You're wrong." 'We don't have to end up as what we hate the most.' She added silently.

**A/N** well… another chapter. I'm not 100 with this. The next chapter is Draco's day so, stay tuned.

My exams are finally finished ( I think I did alright too so that's a plus) and the results to the vote I put up is…

AFTER 10

DURING 27

I guess during won by a bit. The vote was for how this chapter went, and its actually surprising at how big a difference it made as well. If you voted for 'after' it meant Hermione would come in after his big binge, and that did put in some complexities and also moved the story in a quite different direction. But if you voted for 'during' it was Hermione coming in during his winding down binge badness. That's setting it into this direction which is going to be quite interesting if I can get it down on paper correctly-which is always a challenge but I think I'm getting better at getting the world in my head down onto paper.

So thank you all for voting, and I'll update as soon as I can. (Review to motivate me).

Cheers


	10. Failure

**Summer of emerald silk and black lace**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry potter, for I am not JK Rowling, as much as I would like to be I am not. I own none of the characters, and the only thing I do own is the order that the words are placed in and the story line

**Chapter 9**

_Failure_

_As the summer progressed I began to really understand why it was that Draco seemed to need the nights in the clubs he frequented. It's almost like a drug in itself, the lights, the noise, the pressing together of hundreds of strangers. The rhythmic beating that doesn't stop till the sun comes up. It's like a drug and Draco is the addict in need of his fix. By the end of summer I guess I could call myself an addict as well. _

_They don't care who you are or what you are going to have to do when you grow up. In fact most of them have already grown up -they just wish they haven't. It's strange really, how such a mix of people can get together and all hatreds and petty rivalries are pushed aside in favour of the lights and sound and freedom it gives you._

_After all that's what their all looking for, that's what they all have in common; the longing and the need and the overwhelming addiction. _

_It's what we all search for –dream of- it's a world with no pain, no anger, no anything, there is no thought because all we need is the lights and sounds. _

_Soon I realised that at the beginning all you need is the atmosphere, but later you need something else, some small kick that push started the engines and made you lapse into that beautiful world, something that takes you so far deep into the world that you escape to it like another universe entirely, where the bodies that press close to you swirl and melt together into an intoxicating water that envelopes you._

_Draco found that means of escape, he found a way to envelope himself completely._

_I hated him for that for a while, before I started to realise that some people need that extra jump start that the rest of us don't understand._

_Once upon a time he was just like me, a young stranger in this amazing world. Once upon a time he could lose himself the moment he entered the room. He was once just like me but like the addict that he was he had to stop eventually._

Sunlight streamed in thought that large windows of his study. Sunlight that creped around buildings and into windows to shine directly into those few eyes that were open.

Dawn. Skies painted orange and gold and yellow. Chasing away the darkness of the night and bringing with it the harsh realities of day, heat and sweat and bright lights that we shrink away from.

The study where Draco sat watching the sunrise thought large windows that looked out over his kingdom. The silence was magnified by the constant ticking of the clock and the small 'tink' if the ice cubes in his glass.

Draco took a swallow of his second –or was it third?- drink of whisky for the day. He shook his head and blinked away from the sun that shone relentlessly into his eyes and looked down at his glass on the table, a small circle of condensation had appeared around the base. A voice in the back of his mind that sounded vaguely like a house elf chattered away about coaster and that they should be used so as not to water-stain the table. He ignored it with ease. He ignored a lot of thing lately.

He rang his finger though the ring of water and dragged it across the table drawing pictures on the stained wood antique.

His mother always scolded him on his apparent 'bad manners' whenever he ate in the hall with them. She said he had the manners of a filthy muggle.

Manners are the same where ever you go. You say your 'pleases' and you 'thank-you's' you don't play with your food and you smile at the old lady in the street. He did all that without a second thought because they were manners and they had been bred into him from an early age. Manners were like a second skin to him; all another layer in the great build of a Malfoy. People think it's so much to be a Malfoy, but really it's all just having the right layers. Like a cake.

'_Malfoy'_; people say it like it means something. Like its something big and great like the fortune that the name possesses.

What's that line from that great muggle play? 'What's in a name? A rose by any other name would smell as sweet, It is nor hand, nor foot, nor arm, nor face, nor any other part Belonging to a man.' Yeah that about sums it up; a name is nothing so why the hell does it mean so much? And why is it that the Malfoy name seems to have morphed into a whole other being entirely?

If you are a Malfoy, you cease to be anything else, because 'Malfoy' is everything that you could need or want to be.

You can sum it all up with the stereotype of 'Pureblood'.

People just don't understand how hard it is to be one of those things, how completely overpowering it can be, almost claustrophobic.

He slowly took a large gulp of his drink finishing another glass for the morning. He swirled the left over ice cubes around the base of the glass as he continued to look out the window at the rest of the gold appeared.

Blue sky spread in every direction before a building obstructed its path, but Draco suspected that it would continue being cornflour blue till the sky met the land.

That's one of the things he always liked about summer, the endless blue skies, that and the storms that appeared out of no where. Maybe it was the asshole in him that loved it. Taking beautiful nothingness and filling with catastrophe.

He always loved the summer storms, the disorder that was unavoidable, the fear it sparked in people and how with the first few drops of rain that hit the hot summer heated ground; steam rose in thick clouds like smoke rising from ashes. The dark clouds hanging in the air and the sense of fear that was nearly as heavy as the rain. It always reminded him of those muggle pictures of the end of the world.

He loved it all.

People say there's always a serine quiet before a large storm, a moment where everything just seems so still and them BAM instant uproar.

The Malfoy manor was constantly in a state of pre-storm stillness, and sometimes he loved that too.

Draco slowly placed the empty glass on the desk again; he paused and stared at it thoughtfully deciding whether he should pour himself another one. He decided against it and slowly rose from his chair and headed down to the kitchen to fix himself a coffee –a much better drink for the mornings.

The kitchen was spotless, like always. He turned on the coffee machine as he passed and headed to get himself a mug, his movement stopped as he saw a half empty bottle of rum sitting on the bench next to a small metal box that he knew contained a bag of white powder and a bag of small pills. He sucked his lips into his mouth and stared at the two items wondering if he could just have one glass and maybe a pill or two.

He shook his head and reached for the mug next to the bottle, but some how his hand seemed to have slipped and he felt the familiar heavy weight of a bottle in his hand, _just one sip, it wont to anything, after all this is muggle liquor, hardly does a thing to wizards…_one sip turned into two, and two turned into ten and soon the bottle was empty and was placed back on the bench top.

Draco stared at the now empty bottle for a moment, listening to the clacking of the coffee machine now ready to be poured.

He stood in almost meditative stillness just staring at the bottle, rolling the heavy taste of the liquid around his mouth.

"FUCK!" Draco's voice echoed around the vast apartment, bouncing off the walls and ringing back in his ears in a mocking fashion. Draco's hands shook as he pulled at his hair, tugging tightly.

One sweep of Draco's arm across the bench the remains of his lack of self control were strewn across the ground. A loud crash and the sound of breaking glass and metal dancing along the floorboards drowned out the sound of his voice.

Draco always loved the sound of breaking glass; some how it made him feel more human.

Ironically it was the voice of his father that broke the silence in his mind; '_a Malfoy should never behave in such a careless way, they know better then to show their emotion. Emotions are a muggle disease, Malfoy's know better then to have them.'_ Draco wanted to laugh out loud, _always about being a Malfoy isn't it? Merlin forbids we could ever be human._ He had said that once to his father, he couldn't remember what drove him to do it, but he never did forget the answer. _'We're not humans Draco, we are purebloods.'_ Like that really made a difference; we all end up as a corpse in the ground in the end. Sometimes he hated the very word: _Pureblood._

Some times Draco liked to think about marrying a muggle, just so he could piss his father off that little bit more, that little bit further, just so he could see that vein in his forehead pulse. It was the asshole in him.

Draco stood up from the bench where he had been leaning and looked around the mess of the apartment, Molly the house cleaner would clean it up, no real point trying to fix it now.

His eyes fixed on the small box that now lay on the floor. He knew, he _knew_ it was too early to want that, so instead he headed towards the cupboard in the corner and pulled out a joint.

He stood at the large window of his apartment looking out over the small city. His home, it was more of a home then the Malfoy manor would ever be.

So many strangers going about there day to day business; children throwing tantrum and crying or just being dear-sweet-angels in their parent's eyes. Teenagers trying to act cool and sophisticated and smart about things they haven't got a clue about. Parents going about there business like clockwork, trying to forget that they are getting older as each second passes, trying to forget that this is as good as life gets.

Draco stood watching all of this puffing away on the joint in his hand.

He may be a wizard but drugs affect him like they affect everyone else. A nice place to settle down and rest in. maybe that's why he did it to himself, maybe that's why he fort so hard against the life that he would have to lead once it all ends.

Somehow during the day Draco ended up sitting on a window-sill staring out into the busy afternoon.

Dull fuzz clouded the outer circle of his vision, the dull white noise in his head had lowered itself to a seemingly unidentifiably noise, almost a white noise of a white noise.

As he sat silently occasionally taking a sip from a bottle by his thigh or a drag from the cigarette sitting in the ashtray slowly burning itself out and leaving just the remains or cindered tobacco. He watched as the light flickered on car roof tops and shined glaringly on windows closed to the heat.

Every window in his apartment was open, letting in the heat and letting in the thick smell of sweat and car fumes and humanity. He watched himself in the reflection of the window fascinated as he simultaneously flinched away from the light and relished in its heat and glow.

It was the mix of alcohol and weed, messing with his mind and making him inconclusive about whether the light is too harsh and glaring, something he should hide away from. Or something warm and comforting like a blanket.

It was chaos in his mind, blurred words seeped into blurred words, white noise from some where in his head drowned on and on in a relentless sea of nothingness. Flashes of things he couldn't even distinguish floated in front of his eyes before dispelling in a blow of smoke from his joint.

Tobacco and weed and brandy stained his mouth, melding together in a disgusting intoxicating taste, hot smoky taste of the brandy that left a burn at the back of his throat, tingling his gums as his jaw instinctively clamp shut to try and hold the mouthfuls of burning hot liquid down.

He could feel it, the burn and tingle and warmth as it made its way into his stomach. He always drank the hot ones.

The mixed smoke from his cigarette and his joint meddled in his mouth; his mouth already hot from the brandy became dry and hard to control from the mixed smokes.

He wondered briefly if this was heaven –or hell. He then laughed and swayed on his seat. Heaven Hell there's really no difference. It's all really life, just an excuse as to why you have it better then others.

Darkness began to close around his lids as he clumsily got up from his seat on the windowsill, swaying slightly and stumbling over turnover chairs, tripping over empty bottles of alcohol. He couldn't even remember drinking all this, maybe he hadn't, and maybe these just appeared out of thin air.

Although the empty bottles would explain the ache in his body and the fuzz in his head.

"FUCKING PIECE OF SHIT" he threw the bottle in his hand against the wall and watched dozily as the glass flew in each direction, watching the remains of the beautiful golden liquid glide down the walls.

He hated it, why was he doing this? Why couldn't he stop? Why did he need that burn and the scold of the liquor going down? Why did he need the warm discomfort the endless drinks brought? Why couldn't he stop? Why was it so damn necessary? Why couldn't he bury himself in the music? Why the fucking hell did he want those few white pills so badly? Why wasn't this voice shutting up? Why was he so weak? Why did he keep asking these questions despite the fact that no matter what he did more would just keep coming? Why did he give a shit? Why did he try and fight what was unavoidable?

It could have been an hour later, it could have been four hours later or it could have simply been seconds or minutes later, he wasn't exactly sure, all he was sure of was his intense need to vomit. Despite the fact he hadn't eaten anything all day he felt his stomach rolling, bumping at his throat to empty itself.

He ran upstairs still feeling the warm queasiness of the alcohol but nothing else.

He reached the toilet and knelt down in front of it, bringing back some of the liquid he drank today. It hurt his stomach to bring up nothing, and he felt the pull of his stomach muscles. He hated this bit; he always hated the dry retching.

He didn't even realise he had a bottle in his hand until he was smelling the rotten smell of alcohol.

When Draco was younger, one of the house elves used to sing to him, it only knew one song but that never matter to Draco, he had listened and listened and when it was all over he would ask the house elf which one he was.

"_Mondays child is fair of face,  
Tuesdays child is full of grace,  
Wednesdays child is full of woe,  
Thursdays child has far to go,  
Fridays child is loving and giving,  
Saturdays child works hard for his living,  
And the child that is born on the Sabbath day  
Is bonny and blithe, and good and gay."_

He saw it all, saw his father how he used to see him, saw him how he sees him now. He saw flashes of his drunken rampage from earlier. He didn't remember doing half of the things he saw. "Where am I? Where do I belong dear daddy?" he let out a drunken chuckle and rested his forehead against the tiles under the toilet bowl, the tiles were cool and smooth against his skin and he smiled into it. "Daddies a funny word, better then father, nicer then father too. I wonder why that is." It was an endearment, from a small child to the person they looked up to. If someone tried really hard it was most likely possibly to make a child believe 'bastard' or 'cocksucker' was and endearment too. It was all in how they were raised, it's the meld of common language, they are taught from an early age that such words like 'yes', and 'good', and 'lovely' were words of good, but words like 'bad' and 'naughty' and 'no' were words to avoid, if you taught you child opposites, then they learn them not as opposites, but as truths. I guess that's why some people are more lenient about cussing and slander then others.

"Draco? Are you alright?" Draco's head snapped up and he looked at Hermione thought unfocused eyes vaguely recognising her.

"And lookie! It's every day's child! You're a week child, week. All fucking week." He hadn't ever thought it was possibly to have some one seem so perfect, of course she wasn't but that wasn't the thing that was fascinating, she put up a façade of suiting that song, being one of each child. He clumsily reached for the bottle again muttering to himself as he lifted the bottle to his lips. "Lucky week girl, you don't have a day all to yourself, _'and Malfoy-day's child is just another fucking rung in a long fucking ladder."_ He threw his head back and took a long sip of the liquid, his expression not changing as he swallowed the numbing substance. Once he was finished with his mouthful he placed the bottle down and continued to talk in a slurred murmur. "because that's all I fucking am, just another one of them, its what I have to be, a piece of wood in a long line of pieces of wood…" he tried to stand up and swayed slightly on his feet, he guessed that was and easy way to put it, a rung in a ladder, all ladders must logically end but maybe this one reached the sky, it wasn't logical but it was a way of explaining the never ending cycle. "…because I'm just like him, and he is just like his dad and he is just like his dad, and we're all the god dam same, because we cant think like individuals because all we FUCKING KNOW HOW TO DO IS REFORM AND BE LIKE THEM!" he flung himself forward and nocked everything from the washstand onto the floor, like he had done to the kitchen bench earlier that day. He paused and listened to the smash of glass, ringing and calming and oh so very human.

Suddenly his mouth started that almost painful watering, he felt his jaw start to tremble as he felt his stomach convulse trying to empty itself, he found himself leaned over the toilet as his stomach convulsed over and over.

He felt smooth circles moving over his back and a soft hand rubbing his lower back, calming his muscles, though he doesn't know how. "You know, the wise thing for me to do would be to stop giving a shit, commit to the fact that I will become like him. But I just can't seem to accept that, and I will lye on my death bed and know with so much certainty that I fucked up that death will be a comforting thought." It was the first time he had uttered the words out loud, in the back of his mind he though that maybe it would make him feel better if he said it out loud, voiced his thoughts, but he could feel no change "Anybody can make a mistake, and anybody can ask for forgiveness but what's really important is to be able to forgive yourself, either before you do it, or after. I just don't want to have to forgive myself for all the fuck-ups that I'm going to make." he fell silent and Hermione gingerly lifted him up, and moved him out of the mess of the bathroom and into the cool dark hallway, before finally into his room. "You end up not recognising yourself. You fight it and you fight it and you fight it, but when it comes down to it, you look into the mirror one day and you don't see _you_ looking back, you see _them_. And it happens in the spilt second that you look away." Draco felt those same calm hands tuck him into bed, he wanted to say it was too early to go to bed, it was time to go out and have a good time, it was his life, he started living at this time, not go to bed. "It'll happen to you too," he continued to murmur not knowing entirely what it was he was saying but knowing he had to make Hermione understand that no matter how hard you fort you ended up how you were supposed to "you'll fight to be a strong powerful woman, who isn't held down by the world," Hermione wasn't saying a word but he could still feel her presence in the room, he began wondering briefly how come she was here, before you remembered, she wanted the music too. "But you'll look in the mirror and all you will see is another middle aged woman who is no more special then anybody else. All you'll have to differentiate who you are is the fact that you are still known as Potters side kick. Because we all end up as whom we hate the most. We have to." He fell asleep although he still was trying to convince her that life wasn't perfect, he hoped maybe he had began to plant the seed in her mind.

**A/N** ok I am pissed. I had this and the next chapter COMPLETE a week ago! I had typed them up on my holiday, spending many hours in doing so. And then my dad decided to wipe the lap top that they were on. So I had to completely redo this chapter and I still have to do the next one again. Sorry for the inconvenience but I was going to be so good these holidays, I was going to get 3 chapters up at least, but no. I had to re do them. And I start school again tomorrow so life's a bitch.

Thanks all my reviews. I really do need the encouragement in times like this.

BB have fun, hope you liked the chapter.


	11. Contact

**Summer of emerald silk and black lace**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry potter, for I am not JK Rowling, as much as I would like to be I am not. I own none of the characters, and the only thing I do own is the order that the words are placed in and the story line

**Chapter 10**

_Contact_

_Sometimes the contact is all we really need, we need to feel like there is someone else with us, like some one else knows you. We need to feel burned and hated like we need to feel treasured and loved._

_The contact is what makes it real. Burning fingernails sliding across bare skin leaving marks that read like a map. Contact. Not just gentle kisses and tender caresses; there's no truth behind them, scratching marks in the heat of passion, bites that hide the moans and gasps._

_The contact is what signifies the difference between book romances and harsh realities were passion is unbridled and all you really need is the contact that shows this isn't just some sick dream._

_I always though that contact didn't have to be completely sexual to be fulfilling, but Draco taught me other wise, he taught me that sex is the most powerful drug of all, and that really all we need is to feel such contact and such control over another person._

_Our contact didn't start like in all the books and movies, it didn't start with romance and candle lit dinners, instead it started with anger. Draco's need to feel control and that burn of passion, my need to feel contact so I knew I'm not a character in a book, or a shadow of what a human is meant to be._

_Years later I still looked for that contact, that drug that I became so addicted to. Ron didn't understand, he didn't get that sex wasn't a romantic thing, it wasn't 'making love'; it was contact, that's what I craved, not him. _

_He believed for a long time that it was him that I needed, it was something he was doing that was making me cry out and gasp, I never had the heart to tell him that I closed my eyes and saw platinum blond and neon blue. I don't think he would understand even if I did._

_For draco and me it wasn't the act of sex that we loved, it was the control and the burn and the feeling of nails sliding along backs and the heat of the summer coming in though large windows, it was the sticky sweat from the dying sun and the gasping breaths and racing heartbeats. It was contact._

The blue moon café was just like it was the few other times Hermione had been there, the warm glow of the fluorescent lights shone yellow even in the afternoon light. The moment you push open the door it was almost like you were stepping into another world, like Narnia in the wardrobe or Terabithia in the woods. The warm smell of coffee and the underlying hint of grease were comforting and welcoming one breath is seemed to sooth jagged edges.

Hermione sat herself down on a stool at the counter; she stared at the menu absently as she fiddled with a pack of sugar.

"Well look whose here, if you're looking for Draco sunshine, he aint here, haven't seen him for a day or two." Hermione looked up and saw the loud looking woman wearing a red wig and a vest with the name tag "Debbie" half concealed by scandalous badges and stickers.

"No I'm not, I saw him last night he's-" she paused and continued to fiddle with the sugar, she didn't want to overstep her bounds and tell Debbie about what was really wrong with draco. "He's sick at the moment." To her surprise Debbie let out a loud laugh and rested her hip on the counter edge.

"He ain't sick is he dear? Never in all the years I've known him has he been sick. I bet he's out cold. There's no need to lie for him hon." Hermione began tapping the corner of the sugar pack onto the counter in a steady beat. Debbie continued talking. "That boy is going to drink himself into an early grave he is. Such a shame, he could be such a great lover, so generous and loving if he lets himself go." Debbie sighed and looked at Hermione. "A boy like him could have anyone he wants, shame he never lets them stay more then the night. The best night of their lives I'm sure but that ain't much use to Draco. I've heard the stories about him. And boy are there a lot of stories!" Debbie laughed again and placed her coffee pot on the counter.

"What do you mean stories?" Hermione asked before she could stop herself.

"Where have you been sunshine? You're the longest lasting one so far, Draco is a god around these parts, every one wants to be him and if they can't have that then they'll settle with having their one night with him.

The thing you gotta understand about Draco is he says he doesn't believe in love-that's complete bollix if you ask me, he's just scared of it. It all about sex for him, he forgets your name the moment he pulls out lets say." Hermione eyes widened at not only the way Debbie was so comfortable saying all this and the fact that it could possibly be true. "The amount of women and men that go though his house I'm surprised he hasn't installed a rotating door. It's almost like he has a time limit." She snorted and then her expression grew sad. "he's ruining himself that boy is, the amount of alcohol and drugs that boy pumps into himself, I'm amazed he ain't dead yet, guess all the sex with strangers works it out of his system pretty fast. I love him like a son, but that boy is destroying himself and there's nothing I can do to help." As Debbie told Hermione all this she sat in stunned silence, she could understand why some one might have sex with a stranger every once in a while but what Debbie was telling her seemed unimaginable. Then she remembered what Demetrious had told her at the store, _'he's what makes the summers hot'_ the way he had said it was as though he really had believed it. _'Our dear Mr Malfoy is the most sort-after man in all of England.'_ Debbie had said that, not in so many words, but still said he was wanted by everyone, _'nobody can reach him… says he doesn't believe in love… some people say that he's a god… too heartless to be a god… others say he's the only son of the devil… he's what makes the summer hot… the real reason people lie awake at night tossing and turning because of the heat… the people he fucks fall madly and deeply in love with **him**… the people he fucks… once your close to him its nearly impossible to be in control of your own action…' _Demetrious' words rang though her head. Was it true?

"How many people does he sleep with in a day?" Hermione asked without even realising she was voicing her curiosity. Debbie laughed again picking up her coffee pot.

"Hard to say exactly, the men and women he goes though. It could be anywhere up to seven a day." Debbie walked off leaving Hermione staring at the packet of sugar that had now torn and was spilling sweet white powder onto the counter as she fiddled with it.

The walk from the café to Draco's apartment seemed longer then it really was, the sun was at its highest point and seemed to be taking full advantage of its positioning, it was almost as though some one was pouring hot water all over her, but it wasn't refreshing and nice like a shower was, it was hot and sticky and made it hard to breath, she didn't even know why she was going back there, she could just go home and forget about the weeks she spent in Draco Malfoy's presence.

But Hermione knew she could never do that, she could never hide from him and pretend like it doesn't exist, _'just because a few people say it doesn't make it real'_ her mother said that sometimes, and Hermione knew all to well that that could be true, Rita Skeeter, had proved that to her in fifth year.

Thinking of her mother caused a sharp pain in her gut; she had lied so much to her already, and for what? A good night out in a night club and a feel of doing something bad? Why did she lie? Why did she say she was tired and wanted to go to bed but leave to go clubbing instead? Why did she say she was going to the pool with old friends when she was really coming here?

Hermione frowned and stopped walking, she didn't want to think about this, she didn't want to feel guilty for something that felt good, and she didn't want to regret the choices she made.

She sank down and sat on the curb her head in her hands and the sun beating on her back, what _did_ she want? She stayed like that for a while, listening to the passers by, the cars and the world, she stayed still; feeling the beating sun on her back and the feel of hot cement beneath and beside her.

_Without your eyes you can often see more clearly then with your eyes wide open._

She wanted this. She wanted the beat of the music and the mass of dances that moved like a snake, she wanted dusty moonlights and the heated skies of Indian summers, she wanted to look at Draco's smirking face flashed gold and blue and red and all the colours of the rainbow, she wanted to know the rest of the goddamn rules. This is what she wanted, but she didn't understand why what she wanted seemed so hard to get.

The apartment was cleaned when she went back; there were no more shards of glass across the floor, no more over turned tables and furniture.

"It's strange really that chaos and order can come from the same source." Hermione jumped when Draco's voice echoes around the scarcely furnished apartment.

Draco sat at the top of the stairs looking out over the room, he wore a black shirt and black pants, his pale complexion and hair made it look as though he was part of a black and white photo, the sterile colours and clean surfaces of the room helped to complete the picture. The only clue was that even with the distance between them Hermione could still see the bright bluey grey of his eyes. That shocked her. "I didn't think you'd be back, thought maybe I'd scared you a bit." Hermione shifted her feet and watched as Draco slowly rose from his seat on the top stair, he stood still and looked out one of the large windows framing the city.

"I've helped Harry and Ron when they were drunk a couple of times." Draco smirked and huffed a laugh.

"Who would have thought The-Boy-Who-Lived and his side-kick pal, inebriated and left in the dependable hands of the Gryffindor bookworm. What a picture." Hermione felt unpredicted anger burn in her gut as Draco moved gracefully down the stairs sparing her a blank look as he passed her on the way to the kitchen.

"Like you can really say you're so much better." She spat as she trailed behind him as he entered the kitchen and open the fridge and looking in.

"I never said I was, because I don't pretend to be something I'm not." This time it was Hermione's turn to huff a laugh.

"Your right because you're right out there for everyone to see and you have no concern of how people think of you. You have no self respect seemingly." Draco whisked around from looking in the fridge and faced her head on.

"Do you care to share with the class what the bloody hell you're going on about Ms Granger?" Hermione rolled her eyes and placed her hands on her hips in a defensive stance.

"I'm talking about last night, I'm talking about your drinking and your drugs and your sex with strangers!" Draco's eyes flashed, but Hermione was too overwhelmed by her own rage that she didn't notice. "Debbie told me all about you, says you have sex with seven different people a day, and drink like a fish as well as pumping shit into your body! Do you have any idea how dangerous what your doing is!" Draco rolled his eyes and slammed the fridge door shut causing Hermione to jump form the sudden sound.

"Your un-fucking-believable you know that don't you Granger? You think I give a fuck about the things people say about me? I am a Malfoy; I was brought up to not care. We're not all fragile little perfect pollies like you Granger, some of use don't care what people think." Hermione's mouth fell open in shock.

"Don't you dare try and turn this around on me Malfoy! _You're_ the one that was passed out drunk last night; _you're_ the one that has sex with complete strangers! Its not healthy Malfoy, it's not right!" Draco glared and moved a step closer.

"What? Did you think I was going to save myself until I was married? I'm not you Granger, I can't think of myself as physically satisfied by fucking myself over textbooks. The closest you've got is kissing Victor Krum. We're not all little virgins who are going to have a white wedding." Hermione face was blushed red from suppressed rage, never in all her life has she had some one say such things to her.

"There's a different between having sex sometimes and whoring yourself Malfoy. I've heard all the stories, your nothing but a filthy slut!" Draco raised a hand as though to hit her but pulled it back and ran it though his hair roughly pulling at the ends as he glared at her.

"Fuck you Granger! Don't talk about shit you don't understand! I'm not a fucking slut!" Hermione glared back spitting out her words as though they had a foul taste.

"Please! Don't bloody lie to me; I've heard all the stories, the best fuck in the world! You'll fuck anything that moves! Only ever one night! No wonder everybody bloody knows you in the clubs, they've apparently all blown you!" It hit a nerve, Draco had his mask of indifference up, it was what he told himself, but it hurt a lot more coming from some on else.

"Fuck You. Get the fuck out of here." He turned away from her and stared at the stainless steal fridge door, he could see a hand print on the clean surface, it seemed too small to be his own.

"Why? So you can go and whore yourself out! So you can burn your guilt with a bottle of liquor? So you can fucking drown in your god dam drugs! You're nothing but a slut who can't stop drinking and doing your bloody drugs." Hermione's voice was strained as she held back her anger and disgust.

"Get out. Get out of here and don't come back." his voice was cold, it was void of any emotion and he continued to stare ahead as though he could see something on the fridge door that no one else could see.

"What?" Hermione's voice dropped, it was a shocked whisper, this is what they did, they fought, maybe this time she had over stepped her bounds. But what bounds? He was killing himself with his whisky and drugs, Debbie said it, and she'd seen it.

"Get. Out. Fuck you and get out." His voice still rang cold, with no hint of anger

"Fine, I'll leave you to your holy shrine of whisky and drugs. I'm sure without me bugging you all the time you can get back to getting laid every chance you can get."

Neither were particularly sure what happened next but they found themselves centimetres apart, Draco's cold dark eyes staring into Hermione's shocked ones.

"You know what's wrong with you Granger?" his voice was a whisper and his warm breath washed over her face. "You judge people because of things you have no knowledge about. Your pathetic." They stayed silent for a second more before Draco leaned in closer and brushed his lips over hers in a whisper of a kiss. Their kiss was barely even a kiss, but it was enough to shock both.

They pulled apart and stared at each other. "next rule, don't ever judge me." Then suddenly Draco was no longer there, a few seconds flat and he was already at the top of the stairs looking out the large window ignoring her very presence.

Hermione too stayed silent as she left the apartment too shocked to even care that she left the door wide open.

A/N. _Read and Review please._

NOTE: I am looking for someone to write a couple of sex scenes for future chapters. If you are interested please tell me so in a review.

Also people contestants must note that if I chose a particular writer for such scenes it is because they write in a way that resembles mine or in a way that is not too graphic and can be fiddled with by myself to fit with the story or the scenes.

I will read interested people's stories and judge them on that.

Thank you


	12. Forgotten

**Summer of emerald silk and black lace**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry potter, for I am not JK Rowling, as much as I would like to be I am not. I own none of the characters, and the only thing I do own is the order that the words are placed in and the story line

**Chapter 11**

_Forgotten_

_Memory is a strange thing, often you forget the larger things that happen. You forget victories and defeats that at the time were really the most important thing imaginable, but later you realise meant nothing –it was a shallow victory or an insignificant defeat. My mind chooses to forget large things, like the names of the clubs we went to, or my first taste of alcohol. But I remember other things, like the feel of his breath on my throat as he came, or the way his hair shone under the multicoloured hues of the laser lights. It's the small things that at the time seem trivial; the things that barely even register that come back to me as I dream or in the moments of silence when I can drown in my memories._

_I can't remember how I danced or if I looked like a fool while doing it, instead I remember the coil of excitement in the pit of my stomach as I moved. I can't remember the faces of the people I dance with; instead I remember the feel of Draco's hands around my waist as we moved in time with the primal beat._

_I remember how the coil of excitement and the feeling of desire melded together into something bigger and better, until I almost buckled under the sensations. But I forget the sound of his voice at midnight or the look in his eyes when he gazed upon an Indian summer sky._

_I remember the feel if the softest silk on my sweaty skin and the feel of him above me, beneath me, all around me. _

_But I forget other things, like the feel of Ron hugging me for the first time without the façade of 'friendship' or the sounds of Harry and Ron's voices when we were younger. I forget what it felt like to watch a Quidditch match in the school grounds. But I remember platinum blond hair and neon blue eyes._

_It's strange what our mind chooses to forget._

As the bus lurch forward Hermione felt her stomach do the same, she rested her head against the warm dirty glass and closed her eyes hoping she might be able to block out the overwhelming smell of sweat and heat and too many bodies in too small a space.

The afternoon sun glared in though the windows and shone into passengers eyes. At these moments minds seem to turn off and they become moments of contemplation, in these moments where there is nothing but the great expanse of your mind. Like a blank white paper, clean of anything that could taint it; clean of anything that could stain the perfect white region of nothingness.

In moments like this, as the crowded bus filled and emptied with a steady stream of heated bodies Hermione felt her mind wander, across the white canvas and paint pictures from her memories.

The steady drum of the buses engine fuelled the images as she studied her memories of the nights under the multi-coloured lights from mirror balls and lasers.

Words buzzed though her mind; _'…some say he's a god…_' when she thought about it clearly and from an objective point of view she could see how others could think that of Draco, especially when they saw him at the clubs under the lights but still half hidden in darkness with a cascade of glitter falling from the heavens catching the lights as they made their way to the ground around him. All they saw was the predatory walk, his strut that screamed importance and money; they saw a god amongst men. They see the crowd's part for him and feel the air around him thicken like a promise of adventure.

Everything about him seems to whisper of dirty secrets in dark rooms and things other people dream of being able to do.

Hermione rolled her eyes and rubbed the bridge of her nose, now she sounded like she was worshipping him!

But all the while she couldn't help compare the Draco here and now; to the Draco from years passed at school, the sneering cruel boy who taunted her about her big teeth and frizzy hair.

It was hard to see them as the same person. Sure there were the rumours around Hogwarts that Draco was promiscuous -rumours she like all the others had assumed were exaggerated and false. But now that she had seen him in this new light, seen him as a predator who knew all about the clubs, who was seen as the devil himself. She began to wonder if maybe the rumours were true.

The bus stopped with a sudden lurch and Hermione felt herself being flung forward with the sudden jolt.

She wanted to cry but she didn't know why, she wanted to scream but she didn't know what at, she wanted to fall down in a heap and vanish into the ground and she had no idea why. The feeling had been growing all day, a sort of apprehension mixed with a need; for what, she had no idea.

She needed to get lost in a crowd of sweat slicked bodies moving to a primal beat in a dark room, that smelt of not only sweat, but of lust and passion and excitement as well. She wanted to be buried in a crowd who didn't care about image and style, who didn't care about whom you were or who you were going to end up being.

Hermione let out a sudden laugh, startling the passenger in the seat next to her. She mumbled an apology and looked out the window to avoid eye contact.

_Malfoy should be in marketing; he really knew how to sell something._ And he did. Hermione could see that now, he made everything look good, he made white blond hair fashionable, he made pale skin cool, he made clubs a mystical wonderland –an oasis- he made people see another side of everything and that side inevitably was better then the first.

_Or maybe he isn't selling it, maybe he just shows it._ That was possible too; he showed her the better side to parties. She shuddered slightly as she remembered the summer parties Harry and Ron took her to.

The mass of un-dignified bodies withering together in some-persons living room, like a huge clothed orgy full of bumbling idiots who didn't know what they were doing. The loud music blaring out from speakers that couldn't handle the volume so that the noise crackled and lost any quality it once had.

That all topped with the drunk teens rampaging around, nocking over the food table that had the necessary assortment of chips, dips and pretzels.

She thought longingly to the clubs in comparison, loud music that was almost primal mixed by a DJ who knew what they were doing, a mass of dancing bodies moving seamlessly in a perfect rhythm covered like a sheet with neon lights and lasers, under the seemingly endless fall of glitter that rained down from the ceiling like a cascade of stars falling from the heavens. Pretty girls with ugly boys, men with men and women with women, every one was loved and every one was beautiful. And in some way, every one was young and would forever be that way, lost in a memory as nothing more then a faceless person from somebodies past.

The bus came to another grinding stop and she sighed in relief as she moved though the crowd and made it onto the pavement. She walked slowly down the crowded street, making her way to the Blue Moon, Draco had called her again this morning and she had contemplates not going, forgetting it all, but she needed some answers and she needed the clubs.

She thought again –for what might have been the thousandth time- about the brush of lips –the _kiss_- in her mind she knew it was probably stupid to keep thinking about it, it barely even happened, it was a hung-over teens mistake that meant nothing.

She sighed again and turned to open the door, only to have it opened on her by a some-what hurried Draco.

He glanced down at her before walking swiftly down the street placing dark sunglasses on his nose, concealing his blue eyes. He turned when he realised Hermione hadn't followed. Even from the distance between them Hermione could almost feel the roll of his eyes. "Look Granger, if you want to stand round here all day, so be it. If not hurry the hell up, we have places to go."

People where beautiful when they think no one can see them, hidden in the darkness covered in the coloured hues you see another side of them. People are raw and uncut, beautiful and stunning when they believe nobody is watching, when they themselves cant see who they are clearly, when their eyes are unfocused from the flashing lights or when their bodies fell like they are flying though they know their not because they can still feel their feet miles below them on solid ground.

Draco loved to watch them, standing above the crowd on the catwalk above, like a panther stalking prey to anybody who chooses to look, but no, he is watching; watching the way people let go of insecurities so sure that they are not noticed, how could they be? The crowds were so immense how could anybody ever notice a single person? So they let go, they let themselves shine and glow and be free and how they really want to be.

To see someone in their rawest form is the most beautiful thing imaginable. An artist would spend their lifetime trying to get the beauty down on canvas but die an unhappy soul because they have failed.

Draco is an artist who could never get it down on canvas, a writer who would never find the words to place it on paper, a singer who could never find the tune. But inside his mind he holds the images of a thousand dancing people who are ten times more beautiful then any one else will ever see them because they believe they cannot be seen.

Hermione is no different, hidden amongst the crowds that accepted her, who found her as desirable and one of them, she let go; stopped thinking herself a third of the Gryffindor 'golden trio' and saw herself as an individual and desirable.

Draco watched as she ordered a drink from the barman Kevin, an old timer by club books, he'd been around since the club was opened. Draco smiled as he thought of that, to stay in a place like that for the whole of their life, to see this beauty, to see this _art_ day in day out, that is what Draco wanted.

He shut out that though quickly and watched as Hermione cautiously took a sip from her glass.

He knew he shouldn't be jealous of her, of her ability to lose herself in the music so completely, he shouldn't wish to be her having her first taste of alcohol –it had been so long ago when drinking was new to him, and in a way, he missed that; missed the newness and the excitement of it all.

He watched as she drank the rest of the liquid amber in her glass, watched as she paused, and he could almost pin point the exact moment the alcohol hit her blood stream, watched through the haze of darkness and light and smoke and glitter, as her eyes unfocused slightly and the music hit her again and again.

She was a lightweight. He could tell one glass of a heavy drink and she was wasted. He had never been like that; but he had watched a thousand others do the same, he knew he shouldn't let her drink, but he didn't want to deprive her of it: of the beauty a few drops of alcohol can create.

He wove his way through the crowd towards her, her eyes closed and her body swaying, she looked innocent and experienced all at the same time. She wasn't jaded like a lot of the people here, she hadn't seen the world fall down around her. She was still _so innocent._

Draco watched as she played with the lights and smiled as she felt the silk across her skin. He loved silk; it reminded him of perfection, of innocence and seduction all at the same time. That was one of the real reasons why he loved silk so much, the heady mix of seduction and solidified sex and _innocence_ something he so lacked.

He moved behind her, letting their bodies mould together, she opened her eyes briefly before realising it was Draco then lost herself in the atmosphere once more. Them moved like jungle cats, perfect and sleek and gently.

All there was was rocking of bodies moving in sink and the gentle brush of hands and hips and arms and bodies, silk pressed between them moving like water –in a way only the finest silks can.

The air was thick outside, the pavement under their feet warmed the soles of their shoes and the balmy air was still around them.

Hermione was swaying softly and Draco placed a hand on the small of her back to steady her. He didn't know why he did this, didn't know why he thought she was amusing when she giggled softly about something only she knows, and didn't know why he felt proud to have witnessed her first taste of liquor.

There was a crack of thunder over head and Hermione jumped slightly before smiling and raising her face to the rain that now fell from the sky, as thick as if the gods had turned a shower on to wash away the world.

He watched as she raised her hands above her head and turned in a slow circle smiling into the rain with her eyes closed.

Draco had always loved the summer storms for the destruction, the shock and fear it provoked; but this was the first time he saw these storms as something beautiful and magnificent, watching Hermione slowly dance he silk dress wet against her body and her hair flying out in shining ringlets as she moved her skin shining in the street lights and lighting, he saw something more then destruction as cool rain settled on heated flesh.

"When it rains the sky seems so close" Draco snaps out of his trance and moved closer to her never taking his eyes of her glowing face and the look of peace and excitement settled there.

"What's so close?" he asked as he two raised his face to the clouds and looked into the rain.

"The sky." She paused and leaned towards Draco and began to sway to a music that no one else could hear. "When I was younger I would always love it when it rained in summer. It made me feel like I was so close to flying." Draco frowned. He never had a memory like that, never had an innocent dream or belief about something as simple as the rain. "I think this is what the sky is really like." She moved away from him, raising her hands above her head once more and twirled quickly on the spot laughing loudly as though the sky was telling her a joke; before swaying on the spot closing her eyes sleepily. "I want to be in the sky." She murmured as Draco came towards her and leading her into the car.

Her energy vanished from her almost immediately and she rested her head against the passenger side window.

They drove in silence, Hermione mumbling occasionally in her stupor and Draco listening to the rain. It was so much like the sound of breaking glass, calming and reassuring, but also reminiscent of destruction and imperfection.

"Will you drive me to the sky?" Hermione slurred as se slipped off into sleep. And Draco was left alone, in the near silent car, the only sounds were the thundering of rain against metal and the soft breathing of Hermione.

**A/N** Ok a new chapter. I am quite sorry about the really long wait for it, I just hope it was worth it. I guess you could say I have been through a (not so) short phase of writers block.  
Hopefully it should be over now.

R&R


	13. Reality

**Summer of emerald silk and black lace**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry potter, for I am not JK Rowling, as much as I would like to be I am not. I own none of the characters, and the only thing I do own is the order that the words are placed in and the story line

**Chapter 12**

_Reality_

_People always say love is the strongest emotion, but Draco taught me that hate is so much more powerful then love. Love is beautiful and nice, but hate shouts in your face all your insecurities, all your fears, hate can overwhelm you in a way love never could._

_That summer I felt all kinds of hate, hate fuelled by fear, the deep burning hatred that warms your stomach like a fine brandy, and the hatred that is so deep rooted, so dark and real you don't even realise your feeling it. That ones the most dangerous, because half the time you're not even aware it exists, it morphs and changes shapes and it's hard to pin point what exactly it is. That's hate. That's painful too; it fools you into believing things about yourself and about others that you really wouldn't believe otherwise._

_I hated Draco, I think I still do, but to tell the truth I'm not completely sure if what I feel, what I've felt since the first time I danced under the falling stars in the clubs is really hate._

Hermione made her way from the darkened bedroom that she woke up in. Through her fuzzy mind she recognised voices, shouting voices from some distance away. As she left the dark enclosure and entered the bright walkway she winced away from the light as it burned her eyes and made the dull throb in her head explode in fits of colour and pain.

She squinted through the throb and eventually pushed it to one side, focusing instead on the raised voices from the level below. She could recognise them now one was Draco the other was undoubtedly his father, his cool cruel voice rang out with authority in the vast apartment.

"You are a disgrace to the Malfoy name!" Lucius' voice seemed like the roar of an angry lion instead of the cool persuasion and gentle danger like it usually was. Hermione winced once more at the loud noise in her overly sensitive ears '_so this is a hangover'_ was an errant thought that ran through her mind before she stepped closer to the stairs.

"Better a disgrace then a Malfoy!" white fury settled in Lucius' eyes, and the next thing Draco knew was the flash of hot pain burning across his cheek. Lucius lowered his cane and leaned closer to his only son and spat in his face in a cruel emotionless voice.

"You had better be over your pathetic fantasy of this life by school boy. I will not have my name tainted by your insolence." Lucius glared heatedly at his son looking down his aristocratic nose at him. "You are pathetic, a muggle loving whore who should not be aloud to call himself my son." His voice was stone cold but Draco did not look away. "Come school, all of this will be forgotten. And if you so much as _think_ of continuing this disgusting lifestyle, I will not hesitate to disown you." They both know that Lucius wouldn't just disown Draco; he'd destroy him. "We have put up with your _fancy_ long enough, it shall not continue once this summer is over. Do I make myself clear?" Lucius raised one slender pale eyebrow as he waited for Draco to answer him.

Draco lowered his eyes to the floor and watched with mindless fascination his father's shoes as the light glanced off them and the foot of his cane; slick and shiny from house elves hard work and as hard as steel. Lucius didn't really need it to help him walk; he used it as a store place for his wand and a good weapon to hit those that do not obey. Draco could feel the throb on his cheek bone like he had felt so many times before, though he would be hard pressed to admit it.

As he considered his fathers shoes he wanted to weep; he knew he was going to have to stop this lifestyle. He'd been telling himself that all summer but to hear it from his father in no uncertain terms made it seem all the more real, all the more painful.

"Yes father." He said raising his eyes to meet matching quicksilver, no emotion behind his eyes. So much like his fathers.

Draco did not move as his father nodded swiftly and walked towards the door not turning to address his son again.

He remained emotionless and still. not even flinching when the heavy metal door slammed shut and the sound of metal hitting metal rang around the room. He reached down to the table besides him blindly picking up his glass of whisky; raising it to his face and looked deep into the amber liquid that glowed and glittered in the morning light.

With a sudden roar of anger he threw the glass across the room, watching in sick satisfaction as it smashed against the far wall. He always loved the sound of breaking glass; the soft tinkle calmed him and he closed his eyes to the room and relived that sound in his mind.

"No matter what Granger, parents will always be disappointed with their kids." he laughed bitterly and looked to the top of the stairs at her. "It's the nature of the beast." He swallowed thickly through the bitter taste of bile in his throat. How he hated his father, his rules and expectations, everything about him.

"Why do you let him treat you like that?" Hermione asked from her post at the top of the stairs, her eyes still wide in horror at seeing a father hit his own son. "You're his son he shouldn't hit you." Draco shook his head bitterly and kept his eyes trained on the broken glass now lying on the ground shining in the light.

"He treats me like that _because_ I am his son Granger. I get no special privileges. It's the way it is." Hermione walked down the stairs towards him.

"That shouldn't be the way it its. Draco he's your father he should-" Draco spun around quickly making Hermione jump.

"He should what Granger? _Love_ me? _Care_ for me unconditionally? He can't do that Granger." Flashing Silver eyes stared ruthlessly into chocolate brown. "It doesn't suit him. Or me." His voice was bitter and cruel; mocking her for her innocence.

Hermione stared at him numbly before shifting her gaze to the floor as he moved mechanically towards the broken glass on the far wall.

"I should go" she whispered, Draco nodded not looking at her instead busying himself with cleaning up the glass slowly picking each piece up individually and taking special care not to nip himself with any sharp edges as he stared mindlessly at their smooth surfaces like unbroken water. "You shouldn't have to be scared of your own dad." She said finally as she pulled the door open for her to leave.

"You see the world through rose coloured glasses Granger, no family is perfect, no _one_ is perfect. You simply don't understand how it is outside the bubble that you see the world through" his voice wasn't bitter or cruel, it was lost, saddened and it made Hermione shiver to hear it.

He sighed when he heard the heavy door close -softer this time, then cursed as he cut his finger but did nothing to stop the bleeding, just stared blankly ahead at the wall.

Her home smelt of warm linin and fresh bread. Hermione noticed that as she entered the comfortable suburban home. She thought about how the Malfoy home might smell, it wouldn't smell warm and inviting like hers was. It couldn't. not when it was owned by as cruel a man as Lucius; and a son who was so much like his father '_although he doesn't want to be'_ a part of her mind reminded her '_but he will be in the end- he said it_ _himself'_ she shook her head to clear it and made her way to her bedroom quietly hoping not to get noticed.

The house was different, there wasn't a radio playing her mums favourite music and there wasn't cheerful chatter coming from the kitchen like there always was, instead there was frantic passing and hissed words from the living room.  
"Oh honey your home! Oh! I was so worried" warm strong arms encircled her and the sound of her mother sobbing rang in her ear as her mother buried her face into her daughter's hair.

Eventually she feels her mother pull away, not letting go until the last minute before wiping her eyes briskly. Now her father stepped forward his normally cheerful face was closed off and distant.  
"Hermione where have you been? We've been worried sick." There was desperation in his voice, hidden under the anger and confusion; and suddenly Hermione felt dirty for not telling them where she was going, for sneaking out and not even leaving a note, for lying time and again; when all they had ever done was love and trust her.

As she looked at her kind and loving parents she thought of what she saw that morning, the complete lack of love, lack of any emotion besides hatred and resentment Draco's father showed him.

Her father would never hit her she was sure of that. "I am so sorry." She managed to gasp out before clutching her father around the waist, "I'm so sorry daddy, please don't hate me." Mr Granger's shocked face looked down at his daughter sobbing into his chest he placed a hand gently on her head before enclosing her in a brief hug.  
"We were so worried Hermione, where did you go?" her mothers voice broke through her sobs and she felt her father pull away slightly so he could see her face, wiping away the tears.

"You've been so distant lately. What's happened to the girl that used to tell us everything?" Then it all crashed down. The clubs, the alcohol, the time spent with Malfoy. And she found her self retreating from her parents, wiping the tears from her eyes and giving her parents a hollow smile.

"I'm sorry mum, daddy; its just I've been kind of confused lately."

And they accepted it. Her mother gave a knowing look, and hugging her once more, her father swallowing a lump before hugging her as well.

"_What ever it is that has had you confused lately, we'll love you no matter what's going on in your life. Just be safe_" her mother whispered as she pulled from her hug.

_Be safe_. The words rang in Hermione's head as she retreated to her bedroom. And somehow she though she had already gone too far to stay safe.

A snowy owl was asleep on her window sill when Hermione made it up to her bedroom. The owls head was tucked securely under its wing and the parchment tied clumsily to its leg rested against the window sill.

_Dear Herm_

…_Mrs Weasely has said we can all stay at the burrow for the last two weeks for the holidays. It would be awesome for you to stay as well……Ron says he's going to teach you to ride a broom ……we'd all love you to come……Gin wants you to help her with something……This is the last summer before our seventh year……please reply…  
Harry._

Hermione smiled as she rested the parchment on her desk. But slowly the smile faded as she put quill to a clean new slip of parchment.

_Dear Harry  
I'm really sorry but I cant stay this year, my parents don't really want me to spent so much time during the holidays away, something about one holiday away being enough and that they don't see enough of me…_

**A/N** Sorry for having to wait so long… and for a shortish chapter. I've been battling with quite a nasty writer's block. It seems to have let up a bit so I'll try and squeeze another chapter out before it comes back.

Anyway; thank you to everyone who has kept with this story. There's approximately 6 or 7 chapters left including the Epilogue


	14. Remorse

**Summer of emerald silk and black lace**

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry potter, for I am not JK Rowling, as much as I would like to be I am not. I own none of the characters, and the only thing I do own is the order that the words are placed in and the story line

**A/N** **_beautiful mourning_**, here is your Christmas present :P and your hardly an obnoxious reviewer.

cheers

**Chapter 13**

Remorse

_Temptation. People say its best to resist it; they say temptation only leads to bad things. Maybe their right, maybe temptation is the single thing that leads us down the wrong path. _

_Temptation of the flesh -a nice way of saying temptation to feel alive; to feel something other then dull; to feel the heat and burn of another body pressed close against your own; A chance to feel not so alone._

_Draco was never really one to resist temptation; I think he believed that if he wanted it, he should have it- some left over thought pattern brought on by being raised an aristocratic pureblood. After a while I guess I adopted that same way of thinking, because what is the real point of resisting something that will make you feel good? If you want something, give in to temptation and get it. Wether it be of the flesh or anything else, don't listen to any one else saying that it's not good for you. Let yourself make mistakes and learn from them. Because if you live your life by the book, if you deny yourself entirely the satisfaction of getting something you want; your not living, your simply wasting space and opportunities._

_Dear Hermione_

_I haven't heard much from you these holidays, it's been a while since we got back from our holiday and I was just wondering what you were up to. Usually you send us updates. Oh well, you must just be busy with your muggle friends.  
We were all disappointed to hear you can't come to Ron's for the end of the holidays are you sure your parents won't change their minds?_

_When are you going to Diagon Ally? Maybe we can all meet up…_

Hermione choked back a startled sob. She had almost forgotten about Ron and Harry, forgotten that they loved and trusted her. The bitter taste of shame stained her mouth as she realised she had made Harry worry; he always worried now, with the threat of war and Voldemort the last thing he needed was unnecessary worry about his friends.

It was true though, what he said; usually she was very vigilant in sending letters and messages to her two best friends.

"Are you alright darling?" Hermione's mother had looked up at from the dishes when she heard her daughters choked sob. Hermione ran her hands roughly though her hair and forced a smile for her mother.

"Yes mum, something just surprised me." Her mother frowned in confusion but smiled and went back to washing the dishes. Usually Hermione would volunteer to help but as she stared down at the letter on her empty plate she felt bile and her breakfast rise in her throat and her limbs felt like they were weighted with lead.

Slouching in her seat and shading her eyes from the now blinding kitchen she clenched her jaw and held back another sob as she listened to her mother and father go about their morning routines.

In an hour they would leave for work and spend the day fixing muggle teeth and exchanging playful banter in their shared clinic. Hermione would stay at home, read a book, or restlessly move from room to room watching the clock and counting down the hours until her parents would get home, then, her mother and father would cook dinner together laughing merrily and talking loudly.

Evening would ensure, and Hermione would feign tiredness and excuse herself for bed early. Then at ten she would leave, and seek a world where she felt beautiful and unbeatable.

"Are you invited to stay at Ronald's this summer?" Hermione jumped when her father spoke, and her eyes filled with fear.

"No, I," she started; fumbling to find a plausible excuse _Did they know? How could they know? _"I decided not to go this year; I already spent some of my holiday with them. I though I'd stay home this time. Spend some time with you two." Her parents exchanged worried looks before her mother sat, wiping her hands on a tea-towel as she perching on the edge of the seat.

"I hardly think that would be very exciting for you kiddo." Her father said jovially, while her mother frowned.

"Darling, did something happen while you were on holiday? Did you have a fight with them maybe?" Hermione sat up straighter, shifting her gaze between her parents.

"No, nothing happened. Why?" _everything happened, I changed._ She thought as she licked her lips and jiggled her leg under the table to some how ward of the nerves she knew she shouldn't be feeling.

"You've just been a little different since you came back. I was just wondering." Hermione looked deep into her mother's warm brown eyes and only saw motherly concern, no accusation, no suspicion. Leaning forward Hermione let a gentle smile grace her features.

"No mum, I promise, nothing happened, I just thought," she shrugged helplessly still smiling warmly at her parents "I just thought it would be nice if I stayed here for the holidays, I'm away at school for so much of the year I worry about you." it wasn't a lie. Not really. That's how she always felt. Before.

By noon Hermione was about ready to pull her own hair out in frustration. Every room she entered was filled with reminders of her life, her family and her friends. Leaving a quickly scrawled note on the kitchen table saying she was going to see some of her muggle friends she left in a daze, believing a walk would clear her head.

She didn't even know where she was going until she was in front of the heavy steel door of Draco's loft.

Hermione found herself staring at the cool grey, wondering why she was here, wondering once more, for what must have been the thousandth time why she was doing all of this. Trusting her enemy so completely.

"Are you going to stand there all day or are you going to come inside and tell me what the hell your doing here?" Hermione jumped when she found herself face to face with an amused Draco Malfoy. Sometime during her musings he had opened the door, having heard the lift stop at his floor.

"I." she paused, frowning as her voice cracked "I don't know why I'm here." She blurted out suddenly, feeling her throat clog with emotion and her eyes shamefully swim with helpless tears. Draco too looked startled at her reaction stepping back from the doorway and ushering her in.

"What the hell Granger?" wordlessly Hermione thrust the letter she had been clutching all day into his hand. Draco skimmed it quickly before looking up disbelievingly. "All of this is because of Potter? You come crying to my door in the middle of the day because of Potter?!" Draco's blatant astonishment snapped Hermione out of her trance.

"I'm making him worry! I'm making everybody worry!" she threw her hands out to the side and let all her pent up frustrations out. "They are worried about me and I am LYING TO THEM! To all of them! They trust me and I am throwing it back in their face's!" Draco stared as she started shouting before getting letting himself get angry in return.

"Oh Merlin! That is so… so… stupid! You're feeling GUILTY because you're finally doing something for yourself!? Your finally letting go and doing something that make YOU feel good and your regretting it because you tell one or two lies along the way?! No! That's beyond stupid! That's positively…" Draco's shouts echoed around the loft and aggravated Hermione's anger more.

"That is so Slytherin of you! Of course the big bad arse of _Slytherin_ wouldn't understand! That would be too HUMAN." Draco let out a sharp laugh silencing Hermione further.

"So that's it isn't it? You're not feeling guilty about lying to them, your feeling guilty because you're lying to cover up you hanging around a Slytherin! Oh yeah, Gryffindor's are _real_ noble aren't they?" He turned to leave. Hermione left gaping at his words realising with horror there was some semblance of the truth in what he said. Still angry she stepped forward grabbing Draco and turning him around to face her.

"How dare you!" rolling his eyes Draco leaned forward so his breath washed over her ear making her shiver and her anger boil.

"How dare _I_? You're the one that came here; you're the one that feels guilty. You. Just you." Blindly leaning towards him Hermione planted her lips on his in a desperate imitation of a kiss.

Draco pulled back startled before scanning her face quickly as though searching for something to answer why this is happening before leaning forward to initiate a deep passionate kiss, tongues duelled tongues and desperate hands grasped at hair and clothes. A half moan, half sob was pulled from Hermione when he pulled back, only to start another equally as passionate kiss as they moved around the loft blindly.

With little thought they found themselves suddenly in Draco's bedroom, the cool green silk of the sheets was a shocking contrast against Hermione's heated skin, making her gasp once more. The sheer silk hangings of the large bed shaded the afternoon light, making the bed a cool, shadowed oasis.

Hearing Hermione's startled gasp pulled Draco back to his senses. Pulling away quickly he looked around the room, blinking against a crack of sunlight that crept though a part in the curtains. "No." he panted his voice husky and deep, he shook his head as though to clear it. "No, not going to." Hermione looked up confused, trying to clear her own frazzled mind.

"What?" her hands blindly reached for him, caressing his chest that his parted shirt exposed, her warm fingers made his shudder and his conviction waver. Taking her hands he placed the on the pillow either side of her head, holding them there with his own. Leaning forward he grazed his lips along her exposed collarbone before pulling back as though stung panting heavily.

"You'll regret it." he paused staring down at her flushed face licking his lips to try and ground himself, instead finding the dwindling taste of Hermione on his lips. "You'll hate yourself and me more… afterwards." Hermione stared up at him from where she lay, licking her swollen lips she leaned up, leaving her hands weighted on her pillow, and kissed him, a sharp clash of tongue against tongue before she moved towards his ear.

"I'm not made of porcelain of lace Draco. You won't break me." a moment more hesitation before Draco leaned forward and bit the exposed neck before him, Hermione gasped and fell back onto the emerald sheets feeling the slide of silk on skin as Draco moved to kiss her once more. And suddenly there were hands caressing tousled hair, stroked cheeks flushed with passion. Fingers found fingers, twining and untwining as lips traced down a neck arched back allowing access. Their bodies flushed with a glow of sweat moved and writhed as waves or heat caressed their bodies. And the glow of emerald silks embraced them as heat from the twined bodies escalated and as fingers pulled delicate lace from Hermione's body.

The room was dark when she woke up a cool breeze was swirling through the heavy heat of the room.

The silhouette of Draco stood at the open window, watching as darkening grey clouds smothered the evening sky. "Draco?" the silhouette didn't move.

"We have to agree on one thing Granger." His voice was steady, and he raised a cigarette to his lips, Hermione could see the smoke leave his lungs as he exhaled and she imagined the tip burn an angry red when the butt of the cigarette was pressed between his lips. "What ever we do; it means nothing. What we _did_ was just sex. Don't read more into it then there was." Hermione sat up, sitting on the edge of the bed sheets clutched around her body.

"I'm not a child Draco. I know" the silhouette nodded once, before returning to his cigarette.

"There's a storm coming" he stated as Hermione lay back down on the bed, watching his silhouette and the dark clouds behind it.

"There are always storms in summer."

When Hermione woke next the room was empty and the stormy black clouds were nearly upon them. Rising to her feet she quickly dressed in the first clothes she found skewed across the floor before moving towards the open door of the bedroom.

At the end of the top floor landing a door was open, revealing stairs to the rooftop. Forgetting about the coming storm Hermione cautiously walked towards the doorway and climbed the darkened stairs.

The rooftop was a stony grey, like the entire building except for the expensive lofts that resided within, a ledge ran along the perimeter of the building. The slim figure of Draco Malfoy stood on one of these ledges, arms raised to his sides and head thrown back as he smiled at the coming storm as the wind blew violently against him.

"What are you doing?" she hated that her voice quivered, she warily approached the ledge and stood behind him.

"Standing on the edge of the world!" his voice was laced with awe as he glanced down at her before throwing his head back once more when the violent wind stirred again. "Want to join me?" Hermione's eyes widened and she shook her head aggressively before realising he couldn't see her.  
"Um... No thanks." Draco closed his eyes and licked his lips as a roll of thunder rumbled through the sky.

"Why not? What are you afraid of?" Hermione felt a twinge in her stomach and she crossed her arms protectively against her chest, to ward of the wind and also in a stance of defiance.

"Nothing. But I'm not suicidal either." Draco let out a deep laugh letting his arms drop to his side and turning his head to face her.

"Neither am I." his eyes shone with a dare and Hermione begged herself not to be lured into doing this. "Come on. I promise I wont push you over." His pale hand reached out to her and it seemed to glow against the backdrop of deep storm clouds.

"Have you lost your mind?" she made a last ditch effort to distract him, but even as she said it her own hand, tanned and yet glowing against the dark clouds, reached up and grasped his.

"Maybe I have! Who ever knows when they're insane?" with one firm pull Draco hoisted her up on the ledge with him. The city streets stretched out before them and the wind pushed strongly against their frames.

Just as Draco wound his strong arms around her waist the storm broke, in a magnificent show of blinding white light and rolls of deep thunder. Hermione jumped at the sudden noise and light causing them to sway against the wind.

"Whoa there Granger relax, before you get us killed." He chucked as the rain slashed against them, Hermione shuddered against the weird hot/cold sensation of the first few drops of rain that penetrated the lasting heat of summer.

"Before _I_ get us killed?! It was your crazy idea to stand up here." She hissed at him, Draco once again chuckled deep in his throat and rested his head against her shoulder.

"Yeah, but who's the bigger fool? The original fool or the fool that follows the fool?" Hermione let out a low growl of frustration before leaning back slightly against Draco and they both stood in silence watching the natural beauty and destruction of the storm before them, from here until the horizon.

Hermione could almost believe that they were the only people left in the world. The pure power of the thunder and lightning spaced between the relentless downpour of chilled rain invigorated her, making her body thrum with a rush of adrenaline as the wind pushed more violently against them.

As Draco slowly started to sway, hearing music in the rolls of thunder, Hermione threw her head back resting it against Draco's shoulder she laughed, and let the worries for her friends and family, her guilt and her regrets, roll off her with the droplets of water.

As the storm slowly stopped leaving only the heavy rain Hermione climbed down from the ledge and turned to leave. As the final flash of lightning illuminated the sky she turned to face Draco, his head once more thrown back in abandon and an energy about him Hermione had only ever glimpsed while dancing, she asked a question that had been worrying at her since she first saw his slim pale figure on the ledge. "Are you afraid?" Draco glanced in her direction, a deep sadness in his eyes and Hermione saw the first glimpse at the human being under the masks Draco wore.

"I don't know how to be afraid, all I know is anger," he paused, leaning forwards slightly to try and glimpse the street miles bellow. "And sadness." And Hermione turned, frowning at his answer and leaving the rooftop, and the loft itself. Returning to her family and the world where she understood people.

**A/N** There. After a couple of months (which I am terribly sorry about) there is an update! Sadly I have been suffering from server writers block. Compared to the usual writers block which is similar to a brick wall, mine was instead a wall of MOUNTAINS! And I'm not just talking, your everyday mountains, these are the biggest fattest blocking mountains ever! And sadly the only was around was very very long.

But I have overcome it, and managed to spit this chapter out. I have had the next one done for a while. Since I am on holidays I hope to update the rest soon. (Ladies and gentlemen I only have FOUR more chapters after chapter 14!! That is including the epilogue.) I thank the reviewers and readers who have stuck with this story despite the terrible long time since the last update.

Anyway, I hope this chapter was worth the wait and please please review.

cheers


	15. Past

**Summer of emerald silk and black lace**

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry potter, for I am not JK Rowling, as much as I would like to be I am not. I own none of the characters, and the only thing I do own is the order that the words are placed in and the story line

**Chapter 14**

Past

_Sometimes people dream about being different; of **doing** something different, those dreams that everybody has and no one talks about because despite everyone having then they aren't the "norm". And nobody wants to not be normal, its just human nature._

_Draco was different, he always was; right from the first. The problem is; his difference made him dangerous, his difference made people not know anything anymore. People worshipped him because they couldn't have him. Couldn't be him._

_That summer I got a taste at that difference. I touched the fire that was Draco. And even now I dream about it._

_We became like vampires in a way, living at night and sleeping during the day. We seemed to feed off each other, like Draco held the essence of my existence -like he held the life that I had somehow stolen. It seemed so strange to consider myself like a soulless wanderer, neither dead nor alive, but in a way it was the only comparison I can make._

_When I was in the clubs, wrapped in Draco's arms and moving to a beat that was so deep inside me it felt like it came from me, I felt possessed and desperate. I felt like no fire in this world could warm me and at the same time, no ice could cool my heated body. I saw everything in stark black and white with splashes of brilliant colour that flew in front of my eyes in time with the primal beat._

_Nothing was the same. My body was more alive, it felt on fire when Draco touched me but yet I burned deep inside with an all consuming desperation when he wasn't nearby -when I was alone and cold in my comfortable bed in my comfortable home -alone and desperate for one more hour, one more minute, one more second in the clubs or simply with Draco._

_Because he was so much like the clubs; alive and vibrant and all consuming._

The days passed to weeks, and the weeks blended together into a meaningless measurement of time. The clubs were becoming more beautiful, more alluring. And sometimes Hermione found it hard to remember the life outside.

Errant letters from Ron and Harry reminded Hermione of the world she lived in, the world she was supposed to belong to, and these letters soon became her only tie to her old self, she almost hated them for that; for threatening to take away this world and replace it with the reality of her own. The world she belonged to. The world she was meant to live.

But each night as she pulled away from the floor, brushed the glittering stars from her hair and smiled as Draco's whiskey soaked breath whispered in her ear she could only think how _right_ this was, how _real_ it felt -more real then dungeons and castles and lectures, More real then the war that loomed and grew more daunting and ludicrous with each year that passed.

The boutique was like she remembered it, classy and stylish with seemingly endless rows of beautiful silks and fabrics, this was the first time she had entered the shop without Draco and she couldn't help but feel slightly anxious. She remembered the first time she had come here at the start of summer, so soon after she had started this 'deal' with Draco. Demetrious' desperate words behind the wall of glass blocks came back to her. She wanted to laugh the memory off as simple gossip like Draco had called it. But now she just couldn't seem to, now as she tried she remembered the feel of his heated hands across her body and the way he moved like he danced. Like fire.

"Draco said he would come today. He told me what you need." Phillips voice was calm and smooth like melted butter and Hermione jumped slightly when he appeared out of an isle of silk. He gestured for her to stand on a small pedestal as he grabbed some fabric and held it against her squinting slightly and tilting his head as he criticised the colour.

"Where's Demetrious?" Hermione asked conversationally once Phillip had settled into working. He gave her a fleeting look before replying.

"He's visiting some relative who's pregnant." He glanced up again at her face, seemingly fighting an internal battle with himself. Once he seemed to make some sort of decision he spoke again. "You're wondering about what he said about Draco." It wasn't a question, but she blushed and broke eye contact as an answer. "Demetrious may be a bit eccentric in some aspects of the story about Draco he is so fond of telling," He paused and stood up, looking Hermione directly in the face. "But some aspects of it are true. I suppose he is considered 'larger then life'." He turned away and Hermione found herself involuntarily speaking.

"Why? What makes him so mysterious? What makes him so sought after?" her desperation for an answer confused her, why did she need to know so badly? Phillip looked down at his hands, rubbing elegant fingers over knuckles and nails.  
"They want him because he is everything they want to be." Hermione huffed in frustration.

"That doesn't make sense!" she snapped before clasped a hand over her mouth and mentally shaking herself _why was she caring so much? Why did she **have** to know?_

"It makes perfect sense." His voice was calm and controlled and reminiscent of the cool control both Malfoy men possessed, it made Hermione wonder if he had grown up much like Draco. "People love the _idea_ of Draco -a man who gives you want because he wants it too. They want to _be _him; they want to be as beautiful and calm as he is." Phillip moved away touching and staring at fabrics as though searching for the perfect one. "Deep down everyone wants to be able to do what Draco does. They want to do what feels good." He paused and turned around to face Hermione, "They see him as some sort of god, who drinks and does drugs and drives and does what ever he wants and never gets hurt. Never dies" Phillip gave up the pretence of looking for a fabric and instead turned to look out the shop window at the passers by. "You can't say you haven't felt it, hell everyone has _felt_ it. He has a presence. An 'aura' if you will." Hermione nodded as Phillip returned to scanning the materials before finding a deep green that glittered and shone in the light; reminding Hermione of medieval tales, of knights and princesses, because surly only royalty could feel such cloth, a cloth that felt like air and water against naked flesh.

"I guess I can understand that, but why do they see him like some sort of god?" Phillip pondered the question for a moment before started about his work, talking as though it was almost an after thought.

"I guess it's the mystery about him, you know, no past that they know of, only coming in summer and leaving with the heat. None of them think he could possibly still be at school." They shared a brief chuckle as they though what would happen if people realised Draco's true age. "Deep down we all want to do what feels right and not be afraid of consequences, to live life and have no regrets. The muggles all see him as a man that doesn't conform to the rules of society -that is so far out of the ordinary they have no other choice but to worship him." Phillip paused staring into nothing holding a pin in his hand and clumsily twirling it around his fingers. "I suppose no matter where you go, or what world you're from there is always a society ready to pull you back in line and tell you when to stop." He sighed one final time and looked directly into Hermione's eyes, she was startled by the shocking green of them, more brilliant then Harry's and deeper then she had ever seen before, deepened by a past that darkened his soul. "Draco appeals to the rebel in all of us."

Minutes ticked by and the pair remained in silence as Phillip finished pinning her clothes. As Phillip let Hermione off the pedestal she spoke once more "What did you mean by 'finally returning the favour?'" Phillip paused for a moment before recognition shone in his eyes. He paused for a moment before answering, debating the consequences of his answer.

"Along time ago Draco stumbled into this world, not nearly as deep in as he is now, he just skimmed the outskirts. Somehow he found another wizard like himself, part of a family that had rules and expectations for them and a life all planned out that he didn't want. So this man took Draco under his wing, taught him how to bury himself in the lights and the sounds and the drugs.

He taught him the wonders of alcohol and drugs. To pureblood wizards there is nothing more exciting and exhilarating as the feel of letting go completely, purebloods like the Malfoy's are taught from early on to control every aspect of themselves, and to let loose like that is so breathtaking it's hard to stop once you start.

Eventually this wizard told Draco that he had to leave, Draco thought he was completely mad, asked him why? Why couldn't he continue? And he told Draco simply that he has had his time, he's lived this world, and he couldn't go on living it because now he had to become who and what his family had planned him to be.

He said that he took Draco under his wing because some one had once shown him this same world, and now he was passing this gift on to Draco, and that one day Draco would do the same.

For a while I though Draco wouldn't, he has to return to his life after this summer and never return. I thought maybe he'd forgotten.

Draco buried himself further then any wizard before him. Not only did he use booze and drugs to reach a new world he added sex, meaningless without restraints or regrets sex. He reached heights no wizard had ever dreamed of before." Phillip smirked as he looked at Hermione "Malfoy's always do go that one step further." Hermione smiled and reached for her bag before turning towards him once more.

"Thank you." It was more then just a casual thanks, the insight into this world was more then she had ever had, and she though maybe she understood a bit more.

**A/N** well. Heres the 14th chapter. Once again, I'm sorry it took so long. I know what is happening in the rest of the story, so maybe, maybe, maybe it might be churned out at a more regular pace. Maybe.

Sorry it isn't as long as the last chapter, and well strangely not a lot happens, but I hope you all liked it, I'm not 100 sure how I feel about it.

Anyway, please read and review.


	16. Loveless

**Summer**** of emerald silk and black lace**

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry potter, for I am not JK Rowling, as much as I would like to be I am not. I own none of the characters, and the only thing I do own is the order that the words are placed in and the story line

**Chapter 15**

_**Loveless**_

_The dreams that hurt and feel so real are the ones Draco preferred. He told me so, hidden under the shelter of shado__ws and a gentle blurr of whiskey. The ones that he wakes from; panting and screaming and that leave every muscle in his body tense and straining against themselves. Those were the ones that he preferred. _

_The ones that really scared him, the ones that he woke up from, shivering despite the heat and gasping at empty air because it felt as though his lungs had collapsed in on themselves and his heart was trying to break though his chest were the ones the he feared, the ones he tried to avoid as best he could. Those dreams were the ones that made him fear nights alone, they were the reason he drowned himself in liquor and drugs and sex until he was exhausted beyond belief, until he fell into a near-comatose state for a few hours just so he could rest._

_He doesn't know the real difference between the two; all he knows is one scares him so badly it makes him fear the nights in bed alone and rip his heart out through his stomach and make his lungs burst with pain._

_The exhaustion didn't matter. He could deal with that. If being a Malfoy had taught him one thing; it was to work though his pain, be it superficial or otherwise._

Draco lay awake in the expanse of his bed he stared pensively at the curtains above. Hermione had left an hour ago. Leaving the warm silk sheets to go home and continue the charade of being normal.

The buzz of the alcohol and the pills he had slipped was wearing off, leaving a dull burn in the back of his mind and making him feel clogged and strained. He thought of going to the study and having a drink but the thought of moving threatened to dispel the tantalising whispers of sleep that crept into the corner of his mind.

At the same time he wanted to get up for that very same reason. Rolling off the smooth sheets, warmed by his body and previously Hermione's, Draco rested his head in his hands, rubbing closed eyes violently with the heel of his palm.

He was feeling old, drained, tired. The drugs were slowly becoming fewer. He knew it, noticed that his eyes sometimes glanced of the tantalising white powder or the small pills, that seemed so innocent, so guiltless to the harm they bring people.

Instead he found himself drowning in Hermione. Her innocence, her purity, untainted almost.

He knew she noticed when he drank, she watched as the liquid gold swirled around his glass as he lifted it to his lips. And Draco wasn't stupid enough to think she was oblivious to the drugs. She just chose not to mention them.  
Hermione was differant to the other women in the clubs and bars, there was an overall innocence about her, but yet, Draco mused, in some ways she was as jaded and bitter as himself. Though she hid it behind a facade of caring; for her family, her friends, the world she lived in.

Draco glanced at the clock the red lights flashing in the still of the room, 3:27, the time where everything exists within itself, there is no outward shows of power and musculinity and false posturing for the onlookers. There was no need, everyone who was awake at this time and around other people, strangers or otherwise were as helpless and lost and alone as everyone else. There was no use hiding it.

Draco raised from the cooling silk, padding across plush carpets and to the window, few lights were on now, the street lights below cast eerie reflections on the road, and hid anyone who might have been out at this time.

He thought back to the previous summers, the day long binges, mind altering drugs and orgies that lasted through the nights, a withering mass of lost, lonely people begging for a thirll, just one moment of feeling anything other then this slow burning ache. He was one of the damned, looking for something he doubted he would ever find, and denied the longing deep inside his chest as though it was a guilty disfigurement.  
Yet Hermione waltzed right though these walls, these _boundaries_, ignorant to there very existence, seeing a world like it was written in one of her precious books, not taking the proper time to really look at the 'characters' around her. If she had, she would run as fast and as far as she could; nobody wanted to see the sadder side of humanity. But still Draco found himself dreading the passing of the days, a gut wrenching fear overwhelming him whenever he thought of how he was leaving this, how soon he would have to deny it all, pretend as though he didnt see. And maybe he will stop seeing, and he will become how he is supposed to be, forgetting about the other lonely people out there, the muggles that are so stupidly beautiful in their openness.

_She kissed differantly to Hermione_, an errant thought that ran through Draco's mind as he kissed the tall, leggy redhead with a name like Sherri or Cherrie or something equally braindead and pornstar sounding. He felt her lean body wither against his, her too large breasts rubbing against the expensive material of his shirt as she moved, and he wondered how old she was, older then him no doubt. Probably older then she looked. The thought made him shudder absently which was mistaken for a move of encouragment. Her mouth tasted like the too sweet lollypop she had been sucking on and Draco's mind got momentaily distracted, trying to figure out the flavour.  
As her experienced kisses moved down his throat Draco let his head rest back against the wall watching absently though lowered lashes as Leggy Redhead made her journey south.

A groan of displeasure errupted from his throat as Leggy Redhead abruptly stopped her ministrations, instead blushing furiously and eyeing the now open door.  
Hermione stood framed by the summer glow as she she watched the woman scramble to find her clothing and hurry from the room.  
"What are you doing here?" Dracos voice was disinterested as he re dressed himself, tidying up his ruffled appearance.  
"I was looking for you." Hermione muttered, averting her gaze from Draco and instead looking in the direction the woman had gone, her figure couldnt be seen and Hermione's eyes shifted back to Draco, meeting an intense grey gaze. "Who was she?" she couldnt keep the curtness from her voice, but hid the sinking feeling, ashamed of its presence. She knew what Draco was like, she'd heard enough stories.  
"How the hell should I know Granger." Back to 'Granger' this alwasy happened when Draco was in a bad mood.  
"Gee! I dont know Draco, maybe becasue you were about to have _sex_ with her!" she couldnt disguise her anger this time, they didnt talk about this, about what Draco does; they always ended up fighting.  
"So what? Why do you always get so blooming strung about about this?" Draco muttered as he brushed past Hermione into the adjoining room, unnoticed by the other people in the busy store.  
"You know one day your going to fall in love, and end up hurting her so badly because you just cant keep your pants on!" Hermione hissed, catching up with him, walking towards the exit.  
"No. I wont. I'm going to marry some rich, bitchy pureblood, spawn an equally _pure_ heir, and then remain unfaithful to her with a series of mistresses that are in turn, equally unfaithful to their _pure_ marrages." Draco had stopped, spinning around to face Hermione, eyes ablaze with anger as he spat the words at her.  
"Then just marry someone that you love." Hermione hissed back, unwilling to attract unwanted attention to them.  
"You're seeing life, though rose coloured glasses! Don't you get it Granger? Love. Is. Nothing. Its meaningless!" He punctuated each word with his cruel sneer, turning away at the last word as though the site of Hermione disgusted him. "It's just something we tell ourselves we're in so we can get laid, it's just a word, it _means_ nothing." His voice dripped with venom and the conviction behind those words scared Hermione.  
"It's not just a word Draco, its real." The anger evaporated from her voice while Draco's esculated.  
"No it isn't real, it's just another four letter words like, pain, and want, and need and fear." Draco looked at her, seeing the blinding innocence that she possesed, the inablity to grasp the truth because it was unpleasent, because it didnt fit into her view where good always triumphs over evil, a downside to being the best friend of a boy hero Draco supposed. "Grow up, see the world how it is, see the real world; where love is nothing, were sex and drugs is what matters, because Granger, that's real, that's _reality_. Romance and love and happily-ever-bloody-afters belong in fairy tales. Not in the minds of _thinking_ humans." With that cutting remark Draco stalked off into the crowd, Hermione made one final attempt to keep up with him.  
"Your wrong Draco, just because you haven't fallen in love doesn't mean it doesn't exist." Draco didnt turn back, instead saying over his shoulder as he speed up his pace.  
"Love is a lie. A foolish Lie!" Hermione stopped walking instead, choosing to shout over he heads of the crowd, her own cutting slice.  
"As if you'd know what love is! You'd have to have a heart first" she didnt care about the staring faces of the crowd, instead running off, leaving the store and not caring where she went as she left the cool, airconditioned store to the smothering heat once more.

They'd meet again that night, not speaking of the day, instead drowning themselves in each other, Hermione will ignore the taste of spirits on Draco's tounge, and instead will wimper as he pulls delicate lace from her body. And Draco in return will ignore the burn in his chest as Hermione's fingers will run across his body, almost childlike in her explorations. Instead, will kiss down her neck, enjoying too much the way she gasps his name, like a prayer.

**A/N** I AM SO BEYOND SORRY! Six months, and i am govelling on my knees for forgiveness! If its any help, theres two more chapters and an epilogue left! All of which are partually writen!  
now, thank you so so much to those who have remained faithful to this story, and thank you thank you those who reviewed.

Please review now that you've read and i will update as soon as i can. Which wont be as long as this wait! I swear!


	17. love

**Summer of emerald silk and black lace**

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry potter, for I am not JK Rowling, as much as I would like to be I am not. I own none of the characters, and the only thing I do own is the order that the words are placed in and the story line, but then, who can really claim originality now a days

**Chapter 16**

_Love_

_Time is always there, it's constantly ticking by. If you lose yourself in a fantasy of having forever to do what you want then you will wake up one day grey and wrinkled and the moment you look in the mirror you will wonder where your life went, where all your possibilities and dreams went. You have to live for the moment. Act now and plan later._

_The most important things to remember is don't dumb yourself down; don't hold back from doing what you want to do. Have no regrets; because the only thing worth regretting is not doing what you wanted to. You wont lie on your death bed and have your last dying thought to be of all the things you didn't get to do, didn't get to experience. _

_If you lived your whole life afraid to make the first move in a relationship or too afraid to end one because you think you will always be along and you can't stand that; then you will never live._

_The ticking of the passing time will be all that you hear at night. Don't be scared to make a move for what you believe in, don't hide away in the crowd because you might get scorned; who you are, what you want and what you want to be shouldn't be your dirty little secret. Fight for what you want and what you believe in. because you will regret never making yourself heard. _

_I regret never having the nerve to tell Draco to fuck the rules, never having the nerve to tell Draco at the end of summer that no matter what he said I did love him even though he didn't love me back._

_Because even knowing that you have said what you needed to say -even if it didn't work out like you would like- it still was done and you didn't hide away and be one of the crowd._

_My only regret is not telling Draco that I broke the most important rules. I changed after that summer. _

Draco's body was heavy as it slouched against Heermione, his breath weighted with the smell of whiskey and vodka shots. His eyes were unfocused as they roamed around the empty street, not seeing the brick walls and dirty pavement, instead seeing the wizarding world. Dark and lonely, where he would be returning soon. "You see it don't you? you see the pain?" Draco's voice was husky from the drugs and he pushed away from Hermione, leaning instead against the rough wall of the nearest building "No child shall go loved, no muggle shall _live_ and all because they are not us, all because they cannot possibly understand the true meaning of everything that is real. Because they are _less_ then us, because love makes you _weak_." His voice echoed in the empty street, his slumped figure leaned against the dirty, rough brickwork of the building, the smell of piss and alchole was muted against the smell of warm bricks and pavement. "Don't you see it? don't you see the _pain_? There is no peace there is no purity. Cant you see how the world bleeds?" Draco's pleading eyes wandered from Hermione's and tilted towards the inky midnight sky. "It's so close to finishing. And I'll never be able to come back." Draco closed his eyes to Hermione's watchful stare and leaned his head back. "You and I will never be this close again."

Draco stood up straight, seeming to blink through the haze and walked determindly down the street at a brisk pace, the only suggestion of his inebriated state was the slight sway in his walk. Hermione stared after him, wondering at his sudden change.

They made their way back to Draco's apartment. Draco lost in his thoughts as he wandered down the familiar streets. Once or twice he would stop and stare at something insignificant, with a look of hurt longing.

Having made it back to the apartment Hermione closed and locked the heavy metal front door as Draco swayed his way up the stairs and into the bedroom. Hermione followed, finding his staring out the arching windows of his bedroom, he'd given up unbuttoning his shirt and his hands rested against the windowsill as if it was the only thing tethering him to this world.

His voice rumbled though the darkness of the room, and Hermione watched from the foot of the bed, where she had rested her coat and shoes. Draco's hair was tussled, and his figure was lax as though the simple task of standing exaushted him.

"Nothing is ever pure, nothing is ever perfect. There is evil in everyone. You can't live off good intentions. No matter where you go, darkness will be there." There was a resignation in his voice that scared Hermione and she watched as he leaned heavily agains the windowsill, the light breeze moving his hair gently around him, more like a whisper of a movement.

"Not everything is evil Draco" he didnt look back at her, instead letting a resigned smile flit across his face.

"Your right not everything is evil," he looked from the window then, his eyes seemed to burn deep into Hermione's and a flair of anger made blue fire flash across the iris, "But everything has evil hidden away in a locked crevice of their hearts, you, me, Harry _fucking_ Potter! Everything has a dark side, and the scariest and hardest thing in the world, is trying to keep that darkness hidden." He paused, glancing quickly away from her face "Keeping it controlled." Hermione took a tentive step forward, staring steadily into Draco's eyes. A slight blush rose on her cheeks as she slowly slipped her dress from her body, fine red fabric caressing her flesh as it fell to puddle innocently on the floor at her feet.

"I'm not afraid." Draco moved forward, letting Hermione unbutton his shirt the rest of the way, eyes still fixed on his.

"Of course your not." Their bodies met with a hesitant brush, and they clung to each other like drowning souls. Eyes closed tight, as though they could shut the rest of the world away. A barely heard whisper of _'I love you'_ clung in the air long after it was breathed through fevered lips.

It was near dawn when Hermione opened her eyes again, Draco's back was a shadow agains the slowly lightening sky. Sitting up she rested a hand tentively on his shoulder, he jerked slightly, as though her touch burned him.

"You don't." His voice was husky, as though he hadnt slept, and Hermione had to remind herself that it wouldnt be the first time he went without sleep, often over the summer she would wake to find his staring pensively into the distance.  
"Dont what?" she asked confused, her mind still fogged and sluggish.  
"Love me. You cant." He frowned deeply and ran a hand roughly across his face. "It doesnt _exist_." There was a desperation to his voice, as though he had said this a thousand times before, but this was the first real time he had though about it.

"Draco..." He jerked at her voice, standing hurridly away from her touch and moving towards the window to glare through the glass at the street below.

"No! You cant love me. It doesnt... It doesnt make _sense_." He shouted, throwing a quick glare over his shoulder at her.

"It doesnt make _sense_?" Hermione's anger rose, and she sat up on the edge of the bed, fixing Draco's back with a stealy stare. "Draco, I love you! How can that not make sense?" she jumped as the blond hit his fist against the window sill.

"I dont believe in love! You know that!" Hermione looked at his back shocked before rising to her feet, grabbing her dress off the floor and angrily tugging it on.

"I can love you and love you and love you, and you will never understand! You don't _want_ to understand. Bullshit you don't believe in love, you're just scared of it. Why Draco? Why are you scared of me loving you?" Hermione shouted, her voice choked by tears she wast even aware of as she let her pent up frustration out.

"I can't love you back, and you shouldn't love me, this summer," he gestured wildly around the room lit by the dawn light "It isn't about love and finding you're bloody Happily-Ever-After. You have your whole life to find your fairy tale. I told you at the start _nothing will change_ when we return to school, nothing is different." Draco lost all his bluster, turning from Hermione to face the morning. "Love isnt real. You should know that Granger."

"You keep saying that! But why is it that I'm beginning to feel like you don't believe it so much anymore?" They stood in silence for a moment, before Hermione wiped the tears that had fallen off her face with a rough jerk of her hand. She turned, grabbing her coat and shoes and left. Bare feet padding down the stairs before she slammed the heavy metal door closed. She was shaking, whether it was from adrenaline or shock she wasnt sure.  
Draco remained standing, watching the bedroom door as though it would do something. With a muttered 'fuck' Draco ran a hand through his tussled hair and left the room.

They had crossed a boundary and they both knew it. They werent supposed to have done this, to have their feelings involved. Hermione's perceptiveness scared him, he sometimes forgot why she was the smartest student in Hogwarts. Being as innocent as Hermione was to this world, gave her the luxury of ignorance, and it suprised him to remember how smart she really was.

They'd created a pattern over the summer, both being quick to temper they had to or risk losing everything.  
Draco wouldnt mention whatever it was they had fought over, and Hermione would stoically ignore the buring questions and left over frustrations. Instead they would go on as though nothing had happened. But after this fight they found it hard, impossible even, the large white elephant of their emotions seemed to hover around them causing more fights, shouting matches and arguments that left them buried in heated moments of passion under cool silk sheets or against rough walls.

Almost violent embraces and crude pants and moans became the climaxes to their fights, too deperate to not lose each other before the end of summer, each hid their faces from the other, allowing themselves to believe that the dampness on their faces wasnt tears.

It was never suposed to be like this, never suposed to feel so right. This summer wasnt about love, like Draco said, but somewhere along the line their touches became caresses, their wants became blurred and with the end of the summer fast approching the truth of what was to happen to them, who they were to become, felt like an ever increasing weight around their necks.

**A/N **There! Another chapter down! Sorry it took so long again, but not quite as long as last time! I have to admit, even though I knew exactly what I was writing it came in spurts, I hope it makes sense and that its good.

Thank your soo much to everyone who reviewed, really its becasue of you that this story gets pulled out.

And please now that you've read, please review, it inspires quicker updating :P


	18. September

**Summer of emerald silk and black lace**

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry potter, for I am not JK Rowling, as much as I would like to be I am not. I own none of the characters, and the only thing I do own is the order that the words are placed in and the story line, but then, who can really claim originality now a days

**Chapter 17**

_September_

_The end of summer passed in a blur of saying goodbye and preparing to leave everything behind. But at the time I felt deep down inside myself as though this couldnt be the end, and maybe it was just a test to see how strong I was, to prove how much I wanted it._

_I could almost make myself believe it if it wasnt for Draco, the way his eyes would look around him like it was the first time he had ever seen it, the way he would pause before each drink as though saying a silent prayer told me how terrifyingly real it was. _

_He had known this life longer then me, it was an escape from his life, the life he would always have to live there was no option of another for him like there was with me. This summer was a way to bring myself out of my shell, show me that the worlds in the novels I always drowned in were just one world in a thousand. It taught me to grow up, to see the world in a differant way. To see the best and the worst in people. _

_Draco said that the people that went to the clubs were as lost and lonely as each other, at the time I didnt understand it, but now i do. The world is a lonely place, especially if you go it alone. _

Hermione watched from the booth near the door as Debbie embraced Draco in what appeared to be a bone-crushing hug, but Draco didnt complain. Instead he wound his arms around her, holding on for just a moment more.

"Why do I get the feeling I wont be seeing you no more?" Debbie pulled back from the hug, looking fondly at the boy she had cared for like a son.

"Paranoia?" Draco drawled teasingly. Earning a light slap on the cheek.  
"Dont be smart. Now, you look after yourself you hear me? I dont want you passing out or dying from some stupid drug or some-such shit. Your too good for that." Draco couldnt suppress the roll of his eyes which Debbie caught "Dont go giving me any of that, you know as well as I that a decent kid is in there. And he deserves to be happy." Draco smiled softly this time, gazing at the woman who had been closer to him then his own mother. "...and you come here anytime, I'm always here and I dont care how stubborn you are, if you need anything, you come an' see me." Draco nodded obediently, even though they both knew they would never see each other again. For all Draco knew Debbie could die in a few years time, by a masked man in a cloak. Because of a war she didnt even know about. The thought felt like it was choking him, a heavy lump landed in his throat and he swollowed thickly to dislodge it. Debbie swept him up in one last hug whispering in his ear. "I'm glad you finally found someone, that Hermione's a good girl, and she loves you." Draco cast a look at the sitting Hermione, trying to pretend she wasnt watching the sad goodbye to her right.

As they left the diner for the last time Draco leant back against the wall, an imitiation of the second time Hermione met him at the start of summer, the cool, aloof character hidden behind shadows and mystery. She smiled as she remembered the start of their adventure, how cautious she had been, scared to leave the sanctuary and safety of her books and bookworm exterior.

"This world is something only we know, only we understand," he placed his elegant sunglasses over her eyes and stared around the street, as though seeing it for the first time. "When we go back to Hogwarts they wont care, they wont see what you see. If you showed it to all your thick headed friends they will shrug and think 'so what?' But to us, its everything, its beauty, its life, its everything." He sighed, glancing back into the diner where he had spent so many days. "It's who we are now, and we cannot deny it. Sure when this summer is over we will move on and become who we're meant to be but there will always be a part of us deep down inside that is only for here, only for now." They remained in silence as they made their way down the crowded street. He was right and Hermione knew it, she felt it inside her. This weight that nestled deep in her soul that was never there before, and it only ever felt right when she was moving to a beat more primal then her very heartbeat, moving against the thousand lost bodies of complete strangers.

It all started and ended in the same place. On the hidden platform between nine and ten; it was a barrior between so many differant world, muggle and magic, that summer and the world they would have to return to. It seperated the world where two enamy's danced and loved. The world where they could dance to a beat nobody else could hear, dance to a song that only their hearts knew. It seperated _that_ world with the world where Hermione belonged: with the books and the grades and the expectations, the world where she was best friends with the saviour of the wizarding world.

It all started on that perfect day, when she noticed Draco and his intense gaze, and it all ended there as well.

On the thirty-first day of August at eleven forty at night two black silhouettes made their way through the lingering summer heat towards the barrior between platforms nine and ten. At eleven forty one, two silouttes leant against the worn bricks and found themselves in another world.

The platform was empty, but if Hermione closed her eyes she could almost see the sun shining down onto the crimson express as it puffed our huge wads of fluffy smoke as it prepared for its voyage back to Hogwarts. She could almost hear the laughter and chatter of old friends being reunited and the worried voices of mothers and fathers. The platform would be littered with students both young and old, saying their last goodbyes to family members or staring around looking as lost as they felt. But as Hermione opened her eyes and saw that it was all in her mind, all in her memory, she looked across to Draco who was staring around as though seeing it for the first time. She sighed before looked around again, tomorrow she would return back to her normal life, she would return to being 'Hermione Granger, Bookworm Extrodinere'. she would return to being Harry and Ron's best friend and there was nothing she could do, nothing any one could do.

"People sometimes say that if you make a wish when the clock strikes twelve to signal a new cycle, it could come true." Draco said as he walked towards one of the benches.

"What could I wish for?" Hermione asked as she slowly spun on the spot smiling as the world became unclear and all she could see was a blur of distant lights.

"What do you want most in the world?" Hermione slowed and Draco approched her just as she came to a tumling halt. his arms wrapped securily aroung her from behind; chin resting on her shoulder, a stance they had so often adopted in the deep hours of the night. Hermione immersed herself in the feel of his arms around her for what would probably be the last time.

"I'd wish that this summer never had to end." she whispered softly as Draco drew lazy circles on her stomach.

"Everything has to end sometime. But it doesnt have to end in your mind." His breath tickled her ear and she smiled at the familiar sensation "It can live on in your heart, in your mind" he trailed off as Hermione rested her head back on his shoulder.

"Memories fade Draco, they have to." Hermione felt his chest rumble in silent laughter.

"Not if you dont want it too. Not if you keep it locked away in a special box, dont show it to anyone because they could never understand, keep it locked away so only you can find it. That way it will never fade, it will never go away." his voice was a whisper in her ear as she closed her eyes letting her hands rest on his.

"Couldn't we go away? Couldn't we leave and never come back? We can make this summer go on for ever it doesnt have to end. We could forget the days, forget the places we have to be. We can make it go on forever." Draco smiled and puller her closer taking a deep breath, savouring her scent.

"You wouldn't like that, and neither would Potter or Weasley" a silent tear rolled unknowingly down her cheek as she thought of losing this, losing the summer.

"But I want this. Why wouldn't they let me keep somthing I truly want?" Draco kissed away her tear as it rolled down her neck, his lips lingering against the soft flesh.

"The summer isn't leaving you, it will always be there, no matter what, you will always have what we did together. Dont you ever forget that this world is just one of a thousand." they stood in silence taking pleasure in the last of their time together, Draco bit playfully on her neck letting the tingle of pain wash over her.

All too soon the clock began to chime and Hermione felt Draco reluctantly let go. "You know what Granger? I'll never forget it either, I'll never forget the real side of you." Hermione turned to face him, staring into his eyes.

"I thougth the rule was come September first, we forget what happened." Draco leaned in and captured her lips in a heated kiss, that held all the fire and passion and longing of their summer, before pulling away and whispering.

"The last rule of summer: _Dont ever forget_." Draco slid his hand in her pocket as he gave one more chaste kiss. then with the final strike of the clock he disappeared with a small pop.

The platform was completely still, if you were to go there now, you would see a lone girl standing in the middle of the abandon platform, tears slowly rolling down her cheeks as she was consumed by the darkness, the only light from the moon.

Slowly Hermione placed her hand in her jacket pocket and pulled out a small slither of material, she smiled as she let the silky cloth run through her fingers like water, as the light from the moon caught it, it shone the most brilliant emerald.

Her smile was bittersweet as she traced the fine lace trimming of the deepest black. flashes of the summer danced before her eyes, the pulsating lights and sounds amongst the crowd on the dance floor, the press of unknown and un-named bodies all around her, the burn of alchole going down, the feel of rough stubble against over-sensative skin and the sensation of cool silk pressed against her bare back as warm fingers traced her body, slipping delicate black lace from her form as she blushed, showing her true innocence, and Draco's warm chuckle and gentle kiss as reasurance against her throat.

A startled sob escaped her, before she too disappeared with a small pop.

The loud voices and laughter that washed over Hermione's form when she passed through the hidden gateway was so differant to the eerie silence that had claimed the platform earlier that morning when Hermione had stood alone, and was so unexpected and overwhelming she had to pause breifly and blink against the warm glow of the sun and the smiling happy faces of the crowd.  
Hermione slowly pushed her way through the crowd towards the crimson express, feeling the brush of bodies and cloth against her, and she though absently, how differant it was to the close mass of sweat warmed forms that she had felt so welcomed in for the last few months. But before she could dwell further she was embraced in a bone crushing hug by Harry and Ron, Ron quickly let go, blushing furiously and avoiding her gaze. Hermione got a flash of Draco in her mind, cool and calm, thrilled by the flirt, watching with flashing eyes as the seduction takes fold.

Ron was so _differant_.  
As they boarded the train, struggling with heavy trunks Hermione paused to survey the train station, a flash of white blonde caught her eye and she turned to face it, meeting the cold, detached gaze of Draco Malfoy. He stared cooly at her for a moment before raising one hand, as though to wave, instead opening his hand to reveal a flash of brilliant emerald material held in his grasp. Hermione let out a startled sound, somewhere between a sob and a laugh before Draco smoothly hid his possession.

"What happened 'Mione?" Ron's voice interrupted her cloud of thought, and as she turned to face him, slipping a hand in her coat pocket feeling the silky texture of the cloth, and the delicate lace work she plastered a bright smile on her face, linking her arm with his casting one last glance at the platform and the head of platnum hair,   
"Nothing Ron, nothing."

**A/N **okay. Wow.Just the epilouge left. Scared? I know I am. Tell me what you think.

Thank you so much to everyone that has followed this story and reviewed.


	19. Epilogue

**Summer of emerald silk and black lace**

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry potter, for I am not JK Rowling, as much as I would like to be I am not. I own none of the characters, and the only thing I do own is the order that the words are placed in and the story line, but then, who can really claim originality now a days

**Epilogue **

For a while Hermione still went to the clubs, waving it off to Ron as simply 'a girls night out'. She spent those nights prowling the dance floors and bars. Eyes swimming with the lights and figures, she could feel the tempting pulsating beat luring her in, promising her oblivion. But she ignored it, instead, she scanned the faces of those around her searching for a flash of white blonde and an aristocratic face.

Once or twice she thought she saw him, a glimpse of elegence through the flowing mass of humanity, but it was never him.

Now the only time she saw him was when she was at the ministry for one reason or another. Sometimes their eyes would meet and there would be a flash in those stealy eyes, and for a second his eyes would swim with images of silk and lace and long indian summer nights. But the moment was over before it ever really began just like their summer.

Ron asked sometimes why she went, she would shrug and smile widely, maybe make a joke of re-living her youth. Ron would roll his eyes and dismiss it, leaving her to change into the nice cotton dress that he always liked. It was a cool blue, and it reminded Hermione of tea cups her grandmother used to own.

She never wore silks or lace any more, Ron didnt see the point in wasting money on such things and Hermione didnt push it.

Though late at night when she couldnt sleep, when she sat at the open window and let the cool summer air float around her like a halo, she would caress the slip of silk, let her fingers trace the intricate pattern of the lace as the gentle silk ran across her fingers. And she would close her eyes and ignore Rons snoring, and the sound of the wind blowing through the trees, and instead imaging the sounds of the city late at night far below her.

At night she would dream of long summer nights, a pulsating crowd moving around her like an extension of herself, strong arms around her waist and whiskey soaked breath whispering nonsensical things in her ear. She dreamt of lingering kisses and burning touches across her flesh as she moved over sheets like water, cool to the touch but warmed with their passion.

Ron never understood her feverish dreams, or the nights where she would sit late staring into the distance as though in another world.

She had changed so much since that summer, her body was now frail and old, her skin wrinkled and her hair had lightened to a gentle grey. The only thing that remained of the innocent, exuberant young woman who had spent long nights in bed with her enemy was her warm chocolate eyes.

She dreamt sometimes of their last night together, dreamt that they had run away together and remained to this day, young, beautiful figures moving to a primal beat, hidden away in a haze of warmth and passion.

**A/N** Done. Its almost like watching a child grow up and leave. This story has been so long in the making (damn writers blocks... more like writers brickwalls, with high security systems and razor wire all around it...) but now that its finished I dont really know what to do. I might work on my idea "My Heroin Girl" but maybe not just yet.

Anyway, thank you _so_ much all of you that have stuck with this story, it means the world to me to know that it is still loved and people find it special.

Please, review. I really want to know what you think of it.


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